The constancy of silence
by LilyBartAndTheOthers
Summary: She saw it as a waltz led by the craziness of impulsions plunged in the silence of their acts. WK fic And... A special thanks to miss H.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The gaze stays suspended in anticipation like the soft breeze that blows all around before the storm. The breath becomes louder, little by little, producing a jerky effect of the chest moving up and down. The sparkling light in the eyes seems to invite the body to an intimate challenge through which the instinct of pleasure wins over wisdom. The seconds pass by, slowly. At this exact moment a wave of hormones spreads over the veins, the arteries, breaking down in silence the cells of conscious; and the limits vanish, all the rules. The artist looks at the white canvas, still pure but condemned to the fury of creation as the paintbrush has stopped flying in the air. The sky turns gray; the brain concentrates on its desires; a smile playing on some lips as the boiling whirl is making its way from the depths of the stomach to the heart of the machine and the spring of decisions.

One, two, three.

The hairs of the brush crash against the fabric; the lips succumb hungrily to each other's as the lightning hits the ground under the pouring rain. The gestures follow the strong rhythm of the heartbeats as the genius of nature and the talent of the soul invade the place. The craziness of the painter is devoured by the fury of inspiration and the moans of the lovers get reflected in thousand of thunders. The tension of electricity grows more and more under the sagacity of passion and they all let the notes slid along the stave in the sensual harmony of triplets and flats. The colors get mixed, revealing the first shapes of some new-born as the intertwined bodies waltz on the mattress and the storm embraces the naked world, looking down timidly like the prey before the nets of a trap.

A mouth captures the skin; the fingers brush the curves in the mischievous motion of an intimate chemistry. The bow grabs the notes of the cello in a whirl of fulgurating pace, twirling up, getting strength under every single combined movement, no matter the melancholy of the rain caressing the surfaces, vaguely being absorbed by the chaos of the feelings. The exhilaration of the intensity explodes as the whole orchestra joins in a loud reprise led by a major D and the notes race; the breaths get held under the tension of climax. Then it stops. The artist studies the painting; the storm observes the ground; the lovers look at each other, everyone still clutched to the power of the connection. The drum booms, the skin shivers.

One, two, three.

And the rage comes back in the last movements of the dance; the last seconds of madness when the pleasure dominates through the fury of feelings, the addiction of the body and all the instruments reach their apogee in a total harmony that only nature is capable of produce. The flesh gets tensed, the canvas is emerged by a rainbow of shades and the rain drops twirl around the lightning before the return to a complete darkness. The paint brush falls on the floor, the chests move up and down, breathless as the storm goes away; exhausted but satisfied. A xylophone winces peacefully and the painter sits down. The lovers make the embrace longer and the clouds disappear, little by little. It's time to rest, to think about nothing. Tenderness substitutes the violence of the exchange but the closeness remains more or less implicitly. The piano accompanies the strings through a sweet melody and rocks the artist, warms up the naked bodies, dries the ground peacefully. The concerto ends on a culminating lullaby of emptiness and the appealing idea that it's not unique, ephemeral.

It will come back soon when the desires of the senses feel the urge to nourish their hearts.

For the moment it's just the reminiscence of the frenetic cadence of the movements; some teeth biting a lower lip in the paroxysm of pleasure, the last lightning hitting the ground and the satisfied sigh of the artist before his achievement. The notes of the orchestra go away slowly, carefully, not to break the spell, so indispensable before coming back to reality.

She feels her feet leave the floor as an invisible strength embraces her body, a sort of dizzy whirl, making the scene speed up all around her. The sensation of being lost is strangely reassured by the unknown and the temptation of mystery. The sound of aspiration makes her ears sore as she flies in the air before hitting a bench; the palms of her hands attenuating her unexpected position. The walls are white and the light is pure. She's facing the canvas, hypnotized by the fluidity of the gestures; how the artist managed to catch the sensation of life, contrasting sharply with the rigidity of the painting. His hand on her shoulder is enough to stir up her mischievous fantasies as the smile on her lips let him understand that she belongs to him; at least when it comes to primary instincts.

The last notes of Camille Saint Säens' symphony landed softly in the air, behind her back, putting an end to the strength of his Danse Macabre and the odd assimilation that she always borrowed it. Karen opened her eyes in a motion of triumph, listening to her loud heartbeats. She felt so light, not at all guilty. Her tongue passed over her dry lips as her thumb began to play with her platinum diamond wedding ring; Stanley's face floating somewhere in her troubled mind. She was still breathless.

She saw it as a waltz; the strength of a concerto, an uncontrollable summer storm; the madness of art. It wasn't a detail but the simple impulsion of fusion lit up by a casual desire. The whim of nature always won over their words, the conventional demeanors they pretended to adopt. Leaning her head backwards, she let a moan of satisfaction fill the flat, completely unaware of the conversation going on.

She had definitely no regrets over the secretive side of her existence; no matter that it was a love affair, no matter what the others could say. The artist painted a canvas, the storm hit the ground, the orchestra played a concerto; they made love. The passing of time followed the hunger of their bodies and life went on, until the next time.

It may have been tonight.

She looked at Will with insistence, provocatively.

Anyway they would always play along and what used to happen once the doors had got closed only belonged to the constancy of silence.


	2. The prelude to irreversibility

**The prelude to irreversibility**

His chest was soft, pale like her own complexion, vaguely hairy but soft. When they had enough time to stay in bed a bit longer, Karen liked leaning her chin on Will's abdomen as her fingers caressed his skin absent-mindedly. Lost in her thoughts it seemed she was pouting; raised hazel eyebrows in defiance before boredom. So his hand started travelling down her spine and she came back to reality through the brightness of a mischievous smile until her teeth bit her lower lip; then she rolled on her back as she burst out laughing.

They played a lot, with the same carefree attitude as teenagers are used to facing danger. The door of the bedroom got closed and they found again their innocence; for a couple of hours, the whole night. The rules had been established above implicit bases and even though the shadows of artificiality wandered in the air like the soul of a ghost, it was still better than nothing; a sort of entertaining break from time to time. She grabbed his hand, intertwining her fingers with his and made her way down her stomach until the attorney took his own initiative a bit further, between her legs.

Her day-to-day life was far from being complicated but the lightness of those moments with Will brought a subtle taste to her heart, something she wouldn't have been able to name. It only resulted that she felt fine; better somehow. It wasn't necessary but definitely warm and pleasant. Her inhibitions vanished in a whirl of desires and she let her senses guide her gestures with an unexpected boldness. She was rather timid before a shared intimacy with her partners, not daring to push her fantasies into the process of realization but it was like they had no limits, no shame towards each other; perhaps for knowing they would come back to their respective lives then as if nothing had happened.

She sighed and arched her back, her head leaned on his chest, staring at the ceiling of The Lowell suite peacefully; slightly moving under his ministrations if it weren't for her right leg coming closer to his hand to tighten her grip on him and make more contact with his body.

A lot of time had passed by since she had twirled around under the rain, laughing hysterically in front of him until he had grabbed her waist and pushed her closer to him; making her gasp, her smile disappearing before the confusion of his act.

One, two, three.

The cello had heaved a soprano sigh and he had captured her lips under the porch of some luxurious building of Central Park South. For a couple of seconds she had stayed still, her hands still suspended in the air; taken aback by the situation. But she had finally smiled in his mouth, putting her arms around his neck as they had leaned against the wall and made love there; under the pouring rain of a July storm, vaguely hidden by the elegant trees of the upper midtown street. They were coming back from the restaurant where they had spent their time discussing over some legal papers. The sky was clear blue. The weather was sunny. But all of a sudden lightning had invaded New York and within a second a torrential rain had fallen over the city.

It was one of those typical summer storms that manage to get the streets deserted with the pace of a heartbeat. She had grabbed his hand and ran to the closest porch. They had argued; she had gone away, turning on her heels in a stubborn motion. He had caught her back and something had changed about their relationship. She still could feel the heat of his body inside hers, contrasting sharply with the coldness of the rain falling along her back, sliding along her hips, caressing her hands; and her head leaned backwards against the abruptness of the wall of bricks. It had been intense since the very beginning as if the strength of their whims had invaded their veins with rage, trying to escape from the frustration of conventional ideas like the traditional limits of a friendship.

They could have stopped, called it a one-night stand and passed to something else but they never felt like to and they set off their love affair. The secret was exciting in itself and there was some pride, a sort of jubilation in the idea of having a lover. Casual encounters were addicting when they were shared with a very good friend. It hadn't been for the coldness of complete anonymity without either falling into the romanticism of a passionate love. They were somewhere halfway, taking advantage of both aspects.

The years had passed by and they had settled down into a comfortable routine. He had stopped asking her about some odd decisions she could take from time to time; not because his curiosity would have faded away but the simple fact he had learned and knew her by heart now. The fireplace was always on, in August like in December, because she loved the smell of the logs and the peculiar sound of the crackling of the flames. She never saw him at her penthouse but at the cozy suite of The Lowell on East 63rd between Madison and Park Avenue. She probably wanted to separate the two sides of her life and prevent herself from feeling the guilt about cheating on Stanley in their matrimonial bed. It was rather fair, besides.

When Will had raised the possibility of her husband's confusion about her weekly palace expenses, Karen had simply shrugged and said in full self-confidence that Stanley would never be able to notice the ridiculous amount of money that the hotel required. And she was right. Perhaps the easiness of the situation had also comforted their decisions. It was such a piece of cake that it flirted scandalously with disappointment. The machine worked wonderfully well, too much maybe.

Spending some time at his was another option they both appreciated, no matter that the degree of safety was far from being as high as the one brought by The Lowell suite but Will's flat owned a very singular charm, a sort of friendly and warm atmosphere that gave sweetness to their secretive life. It was more about adaptation to the environment. They released the freedom of their acts in the intimacy of the hotel and plunged all of a sudden in a world of moans and sighs as soon as they found themselves at the Upper West Side flat.

She rolled back on her stomach and went on top of him, kissing him deeply to thank him for the pleasure she had just been given, intertwining her fingers with his; caressing the palm of his hand softly. They broke apart, smiled and she sat on his chest before standing up all of a sudden to rush to the French window; leaving Will in disbelief.

"Karen, you're naked."

The millionaire nodded, obviously not troubled at all by the veracity of such remark.

"And so what? I'm not cold."

The attorney laughed then got up to put on her shoulders a bathrobe.

"Neither are the people glancing at you right now."

A devilish smile lit up her features as she leaned her body backwards against his. Her hazel eyes looked up at him.

"Isn't that exciting?"

Sighing with satisfaction, the dark-haired woman turned around and began to retrieve for her clothes. She was always the one who put an end to their encounters; with a disturbing detachment that Will had learned to ignore through the years, as much as he wondered where she actually got the strength of such effective decisions. She hooked her bra and adjusted it in silence but gasped under the reminiscence of a request.

"By the way, Stanley and I go to Paris next week for some wedding. I want you to come with us."

Frowning and lost in confusion, Will forgot his own warning about the transparency of the window and stared at her, naked.

"Why am I supposed to come?"

Surprised by the comment, she turned around and stayed still for a couple of seconds; then let her eyes look down at her friend's masculine anatomy. She smirked under an innocent tone of voice, biting her lower lip.

"We always need a lawyer by our side."


	3. The routine of a love affair

**The routine of a love affair**

Sixty-five steps separated him from the doors to the elevator. It took exactly six seconds to reach the right floor and ninety-nine other steps before reaching the handle of the suite. She was always the first one to arrive, most of the time waiting for him on the bed; leafing through some magazine, turned on her side. He liked how her foot was travelling along her ankle in a studied innocent motion as her hazel eyes seemed to be absorbed into the contemplation of fashion photographs. Karen was sensual and didn't hesitate to push this characteristic of her personality at the most; knowing from experience that it was an excellent weapon.

Once she had surprised him and made him gasp as he had entered the room to find her in a very provocative position, a devilish smile playing on her lips. He had burst out laughing though before such unexpected scene that reminded him of a bad remake of Pretty Woman. Had she taken it bad? He wouldn't have been able to say. She had just joined him very quickly into admitting the ridiculousness of the situation; then stood up to undress him after a light comment of fake disappointment. She had never tried again and let more conventional postures win over their preferences. It may have been casual sex but still, they were very good friends; too far from the peculiar atmosphere of two strangers' encounter.

Will closed the door behind him and took off his jacket, looking at Karen in silence. As usual she was laid on the mattress, reading the last issue of Vogue. The lightness of her features were emphasized by a sentiment of quietness; a sort of disturbing harmony before what she was about to do, in spite of her wedding band and all its meanings. Perhaps she just had given up her hopes and now simply didn't care anymore but the shade of resignation didn't match with her demeanor or the tone of her voice. She cheated on her husband as we go to the supermarket, with the same indifference as the one we have before normality, logic; evidence. She may have been overplaying it a bit but her strong determination got easily reflected into her singular choices and even though sometimes she came to regret them, she assumed everything without ever complaining.

"What did you buy?"

The attorney poked his head into some bags that the millionaire had abandoned on the sofa, wincing to get a glance through the silk paper. Closing the magazine loudly, Karen huddled up even more against herself in a foetal position and sighed. She looked tired.

"It's lingerie."

Taking his shoes off, Will approached the bed with a mischievous gaze lighting up his eyes.

"Am I going to enjoy a private fitting session?"

The dark-haired woman made a face before revealing her stomach previously hidden by a shawl she was wearing with certain elegance. Seeing the hot-water bottle she was holding, Will's smile and wild fantasies vanished within a second. He squatted down and came to face his friend; then leaned his chin on the mattress.  
"Are you okay?"

"I'm afraid you're going to need a Victoria's Secrets trip in order to satisfy your lustful wishes today."

Passing over her tiny frame, he huddled up against her back, passing a leg over hers; his face resting in the depths of her neck. She moaned and closed her eyes for a few seconds, adapting herself to the heat of his body.

"It hurts."

His lips planted a kiss on her jaw and very slowly his hand passed underneath the hot-water bottle to start caressing her stomach as softly as he could. He had been taken aback the first time before her unexpected pain and the consequences it had on her behavior but it had become an old routine now and he knew what to do; at the right moment. Karen was sweeter while in pain, abdicating under the evidence of a natural fragility that would only last a week anyway. But it was when she explicitly asked for care and attention as if her weak state reminded her of the little girl she had been once and whose mother used to look after when she was sick, laid in bed and shivering under high temperature.  
It was also one of the rare moments of real tenderness she and Will actually shared at The Lowell. They left aside the hunger of their desires to simply enjoy the presence of each other and their friendship reached then a sort of apogee; flirting with the limits of forbidden ideas.

"What's my favorite color?"

Will smiled as the dark-haired woman's high-pitched voice resounded in the silence of the suite. They hadn't played it for quite a while, letting the day-to-day stressful rhythm of life take them away while those questions were warm and sweet; reassuring and calm. He came closer to her, modelling his body against hers; his knee caressing her hip as his fingers were still massaging her painful lower stomach. Then he cleared his voice, kissed her cheek and headed right into their game.

"You like dark red because it matches with your pale complexion."

"And it's deep, voluptuous. What's my middle name?"

"Your mother was probably high and chose Lorelei."

"What's my favorite meal?"

"You like pasta. That's why I always make some when you come over for dinner, you know."

"Aren't you sweet? Parmeggiano pasta, si signore. What am I afraid of?"

"You're afraid to be afraid."

She burst out laughing and shook her head.

"That sounds ridiculous, doesn't it? What's my favorite drink?"

"Curiously enough it's violet cordial. Why don't you drink it more often?"

"I don't want to get tired of it so it has to remain as rare as the best things. How many men did I have in my life?"

"As far as I know the last time you had stopped at fourteen."

"And it hasn't changed. What's my favorite city?"

"It's Edinburgh. I'd like a lot to go there."

"Too bad we're going to Paris, then. What's my shoe size?"

"It's six except for Chanel; then it's five."

"Gosh you know me by heart! What's my favorite sexual position, you old little pervert?"

"Against all expectations, you like being dominated and so classics remain; missionary."

"I need to feel the other's body against mine. It's kind of reassuring. What's my favorite dessert?"

"You're dedicating your life to an intense lemon pie love."

"Oh yes, I am. Whom do I miss the most?"

"Yourself."

Confused, the dark-haired woman vaguely turned her face and looked at the attorney in disbelief.

"What do you mean, Will?"

For a couple of seconds he stared at her hazel eyes, halfway between an awkward confession and the benefits of silence. But he finally smiled, shook his head and planted a kiss on her lips before standing up.

"You miss your father. I'm going to prepare you a bath."

She rolled on her back and took a deep breath, contemplating absent-mindedly the ceiling; troubled by the attorney's remark. Perhaps he actually knew her a bit too much.  
Like every time they happened to meet when the millionaire had to face her cyclical pain, both friends ended up in a bath; enjoying the heat of the water and the sweetness of their sage embrace. It was a time to rest, have some retrospection about themselves and exchange casual conversations. Perhaps it was why they never tasted of boredom and fatigue and ironically they didn't get it with their respective official partners or husband. It was just about them and the secrecy of their love affair.

He called Grace and pretended he was on a date. She didn't have to wait for him or feel worried if he didn't come back before the next morning. He never really liked this moment for lying to his best friend and turning his back at Karen; dealing with difficulty with the cowardice of his acts. But it belonged to the game and it was worth it.

She barely cared about a home phone call. Anyway most of the time she ended up leaving a message on the answering machine and if she happened to get Stanley, then the evidence was there. He hadn't even noticed her absence yet.

They had dinner in front of the fireplace and let the hours fly away sweetly through light kisses; fingers intertwined. It was good sometimes to forget about the rest and act as if they were what they were trying to escape from. He turned the lights off and she settled in his arms, filling her lungs with the scent of his skin; the warmness of his neck.

"I don't miss myself, Will; because I never really knew who I was supposed to be. Good night, honey."

And she closed her eyes, smiling as his fingers came to caress her lower stomach.


	4. The city of lights

**The city of lights**

She barely opened her mouth to speak during the seven-hour journey, saving her words to ask for champagne at the flight attendant, ignoring deliberately Jack and Grace's comments about how exciting going to Paris could be. Even Will hadn't escaped from her bad mood and after having received a cold and sharp remark, the attorney had preferred to focalize on The New York Times. She wasn't angry but mad at Stanley for dropping out on her one more time at the last minute, excusing himself over some business meeting he couldn't miss. Anyway the wedding wouldn't take place before the next Thursday so he would be there on time; he promised. But so many years had passed by since the first time he had come up with such apologies that the dark-haired woman couldn't buy them anymore and it all stayed trapped between her heart and her throat; melting into a wave of invisible tears. She knew her husband too well not to be aware of the fact he still might cancel his stay in Paris; no matter it was his own family, not hers. As long as someone was there; she was his representative, how nice of him.

The plane landed at Charles de Gaulle airport in the dawn of a Sunday morning, crossing the clouds through the pink shades of a timid sky. They retrieved their baggage before stepping into the limousine Karen had previously booked. There was no way she called for the service of a mere taxi, even less after what Stanley had done to her. It sounded sad with time but it was the only revenge she could really get against him and even though it would pass unnoticed, at least she would feel relieved while using her golden American Express card indecently. The car left the suburbs and headed to the heart of the capital. She had come to this place so many times that she actually knew the city as well as New York now and the charms of the novice had simply faded away, leaving the place to an old and uninteresting routine. That's why she closed her eyes and leaned against the window, getting rocked by Jack's voice telling one of his numerous infamous lover stories. She was definitely not in the mood to take part in it.

"Would you like to pass by The Eiffel Tower, miss?"

Her mouth was dry and a violent pain was pressing her temples with a quiet nastiness. She moaned and shrugged.

"I don't care. Wait, no. Where are we?"

"The next exit is La Porte Dauphine, that's why I'm asking."

Rubbing her eyes and restraining a yawn, the dark-haired woman sat up on the leather seat and frowned.

"Why didn't you go by La Porte Maillot? It would have been faster."

"There're works on the boulevard Pereire."

"Then right, go by La Porte Dauphine and then Avenue Foch. It may be better after all. We'll avoid a part of the traffic on Les Champs Elysées."

The luxurious hall of The George V passed completely unnoticed to Karen and it's only once the doors of her suite got closed that she allowed herself to take a deep breath; falling down loudly on the smooth mattress of the bed. Of all the palaces that Paris offered, he had had to book rooms at this one; how tactless. She clenched her fists angrily and let her shoes land on the carpeted floor before turning on her side and settling properly to get some sleep.

"You're a fucking jerk, Stanley."

"Then thank God my name is Will."

Frowning, the millionaire opened her eyes and winced before the bright light of the day passing now by the large windows. She had mumbled it to let her frustration go out, completely unaware that the attorney was witnessing the scene.

"Are you okay?"

She looked at him in silence, weighing his words as if the connection required a very long time before making sense to her mind. He sat down next to her, leaning against some pillows she had pushed aside and smiled at her sweetly.

"I'm jetlagged and I can't stand my husband right now. He won't come. I bet one thousand dollars that he won't be here on Thursday; for the wedding of his own cousin. A poor bloke I don't even know."

"Don't take it bad if I see the situation differently…"

Will leaned over and passed a hand around her waist as he started kissing her neck; his leg caressing her inner thigh softly but with enough provocation to make her grin. She grabbed his shoulders and put him on top of her then captured his lips in a sensual kiss but all of a sudden she got up and rushed to the bathroom; leaving Will on the bed, confused.

"Karen, what's happening?"

The attorney made his way to the bathroom and rushed to his friend as he saw her kneeled down on the floor, her head leaning loosely over the toilets. A hand on her forearm, he pushed away a strand of hair from her face and swallowed hard, panicked.

"Do you want me to call a doctor?"

The dark-haired woman shook her head and sighed before standing up.

"I'm just jetlagged."

The cold water on her face definitely buried her nausea and as she looked up in the mirror of the marble bathroom, her eyes got locked with Will's. She wasn't pale but livid, blue circles under her hazel pupils and her features were deep. She seemed older and exhausted. Surprised by her reaction, the attorney raised his eyebrows and smirked.

"I didn't know that jetlag turned you down like that. I hope Stanley had got warned about it before making plans for your honeymoon. Where had you gone to?"

She felt empty, the words resounding loud in her head but getting lost in the nothingness of her brain. Nothing made sense to her anymore. She adjusted her black dress and headed back to her bed, avoiding Will's gaze. Her reply vanished in the bitterness of irony.

"Here. We were here."

This time she passed her fragile and diminutive body under the blanket, vaguely shivering, and closed her eyes to get back to sleep.

"Where are Grace and Jack?"

Brushing with his fingertips the edge of the oak bedside table, Will stared at her back absent-mindedly. Obviously her radical change of subject had put a voluntary end to the honeymoon chapter.

"They're waiting in the lobby to know if we want to go shopping. I said to them that I would get your answer. That's why I'm here."

"Are you going with them?"

"No, I said I was tired."

A few seconds flew away, taken by the silence of the suite before Karen replied, moaning.

"Give them my American Express. It's in my purse somewhere on the sofa. I'm definitely not in the mood for some shopping. Oh God, how can I say that while I'm in Paris?"

She yawned and turned on her back, staring at Will.

"If I walk like thirty seconds you can be sure I'm going to pass out. I can't… I mean, I need to get some sleep."

The attorney nodded and gave her a reassuring smile; then went for her Louis Vuitton purse on the red velvet sofa, giving her the signal she could go back to her dreams what she did almost immediately.

Karen assimilated the metallic sound of the door with the attorney's departure but it seemed she had missed out a good ten minutes since very soon she felt the mattress move under the weight of some body. She opened her eyes and looked at Will in disbelief.

"They're gone."

"What are you doing here? When did you leave the suite? I didn't hear you."

"You were already sleeping. I didn't want to wake you up, I'm sorry."

"It's okay but still, what are you doing here?"

Passing under the blanket and reaching her body to settle down against her, Will kissed her forehead and intertwined his fingers with hers; caressing the back of her hand.

"We are in the most romantic city of the world, Karen. There is no way you face a lonely bed at The Four Seasons…"

"It's The George V. "

"But it belongs to The Four Seasons, I saw the explicative flyers downstairs. You definitely need some company and that's why your attorney is here for; even if it's just to get some sleep."

She flashed him a bright smile behind her sleepy eyes.

"You're right. We always need a lawyer by our side, or a lover; or whatever you are. Yes, we always need a Will by our side."

And she fell asleep in his arms.


	5. The heartbeats and the seconds

**The hearbeats and the seconds**

"What kind of wedding takes place on a Thursday? Don't they marry on Saturday in France?"

As the silence following, Grace's question imposed itself very quickly, it became evident that she was actually the one supposed to answer. Frowning, Karen abandoned her thoughts and tried to concentrate on the conversation going on at the table. La Galerie was almost deserted at this time of the afternoon in spite of the pianist playing in the background and the delicate summer cocktails offered by the hotel at this period of the year. In order to take advantage of the Parisian sun, the four friends had made their choice over a quiet area of the courtyard where the smell of cinnamon got mixed with the softness of lemon trees and the soft breeze of the day took the aromas away in a whirl of subtle essences.

"The ceremony takes place on Saturday but the festivities begin earlier, on Thursday. I guess there's a dinner or something. They rented a castle near Le Bois de Boulogne; twenty minutes away from here."

The millionaire looked blankly at Jack and let him change the subject of the conversation. Anyway she had nothing else to add for not knowing better than her friends the real schedule of the next events they were invited to. The vodka slid coolly along her throat as the taste of fresh strawberries embraced her mouth and she came back to her silent fantasies. She wasn't in the mood for words but dreams.

They had made love. They had woken up and made love. She still could feel his hands on her hips, her lower back as the thrusts she was leading were speeding up under their irrepressible feelings; the urge of their senses. She liked leaning her head backwards when she was on top of him because at one moment he would always end up caressing her nape and it drove her crazy; the quietness of his gesture contrasting with her boiling heartbeats. She lacked body contact while adopting such position but she nonetheless managed to find a sort of substitution through this hand and the shivers his fingertips could send all along her spine. She wasn't looking for tenderness or a way to feel secure by then but the primary pleasure of sex.

She wasn't bothered at all by the fact she had ridden her friend a couple of hours earlier, after all they were lovers, but the sentiment she could barely resist whenever they found themselves alone and together was vaguely disturbing. They had assimilated the basic aspects of this situation to the logic of making love sessions; as if they had to do it because it was the right occasion to, period. But with the time passing by, something had changed and what had previously been a mere conception seemed to have reached another degree, brushing the limits of a need. Was she addicted? They weren't involved into a relationship but a love affair and for pushing away any kind of romantic feelings, the dark-haired woman had thought she would be safe from this kind of dependence. Teasing while they weren't alone was a game, a sort of exciting challenge but not being able to get up and leave the bed without having an orgasm while he was next to her didn't look alike at all.

Her right foot travelled up slowly along his leg as she turned around and began to speak with Grace. The hidden gesture was reassuring and comforting for finding its place in the mischievous side of their complicated friendship, definitely more sexual than anything else. And pretending to ignore what she was doing to him was terribly tempting, the perfect way to forget about her unexpected wonders. She had been sleeping with the attorney for two years now and it was the first time that her mind was fighting against her instincts. She was thinking way too much while it was just about actions.

"Damn are you going to let me come in? Fucking stupid door…"

When the first cell phones had appeared on the market, Karen had rushed to the store to buy the best one. A high-speed Internet connection seemed as natural as breathing for her and owning a tivo was completely indispensable. In a word, the millionaire had always advocated the miracle of high technology and the progresses of science. Her opinions were clear on the subject and firmly settled down: living with our time was the only way to understand something about life. But now she was dealing furiously with the stubbornness of her suite pass, it was obvious she was bitterly regretting the old good keys that could open a door within a second.

Leaning all her weight against the thick doors, she stumbled forward and almost crashed against an armchair as the precious sesame finally worked in a pernicious silence; the door getting slammed behind her by the violence of the unexpected movement. Even with her eyes blindfolded, she couldn't have missed out the parcel let on the coffee table next to a huge bouquet of sunflowers. She bit her lower lip and restrained a sigh of exasperation before the poor attempt of excuse coming right from the other side of The Atlantic. Not even looking at it with more interest, she headed to the bathroom and prepared herself for a bath. If it wouldn't erase everything, at least the heat of the water and the quietness of the suite would ease her silent frustration; her bitter anger.

She might have liked it once, smiling at the view of the flowers; melting under the sweet attention of the present. It had worked, at some moment in the past but when the gesture had turned into the shadows of her day-to-day life, the spell had broken into pieces and Stanley's apologies got lost into the fury of her soul.

Her cashmere cardigan slid along her shoulders and landed quietly on the marble floor, joining her black skirt; very soon followed by her underwear. She plunged into the bath and leaned her head backwards, closing her eyes as an insidious pain was tightening her throat. She had just realized that she wasn't angry but sad for remaining a perfect stranger to her husband's eyes. In spite of the years and the intimacy they had been sharing, he still didn't know what could make her happy, getting it all wrong whatever he decided to do. He was sweet and attentive but definitely blinded by his business, so far from the traditional scheme of human relationships. It had never worked out properly between the two of them so it was logical that now her marriage tasted of failure and regrets. She leaned her head on her palm and pushed away her tears. Stanley wasn't the only one to blame in this pitiful story; she was also guilty.

She grabbed her Blackberry and let her fingers type the text.

_Am I so mysterious?_

If she had been closer to Stan they may have not come to this point where she could barely say the color of his eyes. She had kept her distance with him and embraced it with the sentiment she was doing right while she had just signed for their demise.

She sent the message to Will and jumped as a stifled melody resounded somewhere in the suite. She looked up and stared at the bed in silence. They had always been careful, second-guessing the slightest detail. Obviously they had let their guard fall down for the very first time; on the exact day as she had found herself analyzing their love affair, such an unusual thing. Her heartbeats speeded up their pace before the slight anxiety stirred up all of a sudden, joining the seconds passing by quickly.

It was just a weird coincidence that all the aspects of her life that she had thought so strong, were falling down so easily one after another; kneeling down before the abruptness of realization.


	6. Paris on a rainy day

**Paris on a rainy day**

The quietness of the weekend had substituted for the turmoil of Monday through the streets of the capital from the dense traffic on the main roads to the crowd of people walking on the sidewalks. Karen restrained a yawn and grabbed Jack's hand with tenderness but her gesture sounded hollow. She had turned over and over in bed the night before, trying to get some sleep without feeling the urge to get up and knock softly on his door but she had failed, for some reason, and only managed to close her eyes while the sun was already shining in the sky. She was exhausted now; and troubled too, vaguely ashamed.

They didn't follow any special schedule but the regularity of their whims. Seeing each other whenever they felt like it; no matter that Stanley was in town or not. They could stay away for a whole week or meet up almost every day. Tomorrow was just blurry in their minds for not knowing if they would finally succumb to the pleasure of the body and the paroxysm of their feelings at the suite of The Lowell or at Will's. She had always loved this uncertainty for not looking like a routine; a sort of classic scheme typical from any relationship. It gave her the sentiment she wasn't addicted and her brain still controlled the situation but something had changed since they had left New York and she needed him in permanence.

La rue Saint Honoré offered the finest stores of the city with the charms of authentic Parisian quiet streets. Most of people thought that it was all about Les Champs Elysées but for knowing Paris that well, Karen only smiled; replying in silence that the secrets were kept safe a bit farer in the intimacy of the parallel streets because as much as France liked sparkling, it was all made through the delicacy of constancy. It wasn't about showing off the City, but the elegance of discretion and once you had tried it, it was extremely difficult to come back to another habit.

The heavy black velvet curtain moved behind her like a wave of petrol floating against her pale complexion. She looked at it in silence and waited. Her clothes were spread over an armchair and her choices of dresses were hung up next to her, forming a rainbow of dark shades. She poked her head outside the fitting room and made a comment to Grace who was next door debating out loud over the advantages of a Chanel wardrobe. She laughed lightly with an ounce of excitement in her eyes and came back to the mirror behind the black curtain. She didn't say a word, barely moved or looked surprised as Will made his way inside and began to kiss her nape while Grace's voice was still resounding in the background.

She forgot everything and leaned her head backwards against his chest, shivering under the caresses of his hand on her stomach; going down slowly, brushing the lace of her underwear. The chemistry was perfect as soon as their skin made contact. The touch released a whirl of desires that, taken away by the strength of hormones, ran throughout her body and she couldn't but abdicate at his mercy. She turned around to capture his lips, throwing her arms around his neck, allowing him to achieve his fantasies and they made love with an angry intensity against the wall of the fitting room, mere inches away from their friend. It tasted of shame and lies but the strong aroma of vital need embraced every single detail of the moment and pleasure ended up dominating.

They spent the rest of the day teasing, flirting implicitly in front of their friends with the most innocent expression on their face. The subtle brush of a hand along a couple of fingers, the complicity of a furtive gaze or the simple gesture of a tongue passing over some lips; it was all about details and the real meaning of silent acts. But as it happens pretty often in the middle of July, the sky turned gray all of a sudden, the sun lighting up with a warm shade the golden stone of the buildings and Paris seemed to glimmer; revealing the heart of its beauty. The rain began to pour as they reached La Cour Carrée of Le Louvre, the famous pyramid appearing somewhere behind the pillars of a passage. They stopped and looked at the odd harmony offered by the different architectural styles; then succumbed to their charms in the silence of a beloved incomprehension. Jack and Grace moved forward but the dark-haired woman turned around to face the jewel that had survived to the passing of time, facing the storms and the wars with the defiance of immortality and you couldn't but kneel down, respectful, before it.

"Karen, are you coming?"

Still looking up at the large windows of the ancient palace, she nodded and tried to put aside the bitter memory of Stanley holding her tight in his arms at this exact same place; a decade ago. She would have never thought by then that existence would turn that way; that they would fail.

A rainy day reminded her of Ireland when she used to spend the summer at her grandmother's cottage lost somewhere on a hill; overlooking the sea. They went for a walk and got surprised by the rain, coming back home running, soaking wet but so happy. There was something exciting when you dared to oppose yourself to the established conventions. You felt proud somehow, adventurous. But very soon the comfort of a hot chocolate near the fireplace found back the preference of your heart and even though you still thought about your previous behavior, it already belonged to the craziness of the moment. Then it was synonym of games and laughter while the rain was falling on the window and the wind was blowing with strength. It was about tenderness, sweetness; as if it was easier to fight the storm while being together.

They came back to the hotel to change their clothes and have a rest but she let her dress fall down on the carpeted floor instead and found warmness in Will's arms. And they made love again, the smooth and cozy atmosphere of the attorney's suite contrasting sharply with the anonymity of the fitting room at Chanel, turning their caresses and kisses into a wave of sweetness and sensuality that lovers weren't supposed to share; at least in theory.

She bit her lower lip as his tongue played with her belly button and his lips finally went up slowly until he found the delicacy of hers. He broke apart and smiled. The weight of his body was soft and reassuring on her and she tightened her grip on him; then smirked.

"I should reconsider my anger towards Stanley. Obviously his absence isn't such a bad idea."

Will raised his eyebrows and leaned over to kiss her ear.

"I told you so."

She gasped under his ministrations, pushing his head closer to her before bursting out laughing; lightly but certainly not relieved.


	7. A long walk through the heart

**A long walk through the heart**

She looked at her Blackberry to check the time and sighed heavily, turning on her back as a sentiment of frustration won over her tired mind. She felt some tears of disillusions run on her cheeks; not for feeling sad but simply exhausted. It always happened when she needed more hours of sleep. Resigned before her way too short night, she let her feet brush the floor and got up, leaning against the large window for a few minutes; contemplating a sleepy Paris that started waking up slowly. It was 6.30 in the morning and the silence of the room mixed with the gray of the sky emphasized the bitter loneliness of her heart. Mornings weren't made for lonely people. It was too depressing to feel the coldness of the sheets and the emptiness of the bed; the lack of a soul.

They had all gone to the restaurant and headed then in silence to their respective suites before logically succumbing to their dreams; rocked by the charms of an unknown city. She hadn't knocked at his door, hadn't called him either; not that she didn't feel like it but Stanley seemed to have had the same idea and she had spent a couple of hours speaking to him, nodding in silence before the confirmation he would be there on Wednesday evening. At one moment, Karen opened her mouth and was about to say that she was sorry; for her anger, for everything. She could see herself throw that in the middle of the conversation they were having, between a note for the bank clerk and what the weather was like in New York. It would have been about apologies, vague ones; not saying out loud what was happening with Will even though deep inside herself she felt guilty for enjoying the attorney's presence so much. It was supposed to be fun, abrupt pleasure and certainly not the sincerity of a rare happiness.

The air was cool, still invigorating in the first hours of the morning. She turned on her right and went down Les Champs Elysées where the last clubbers were hailing cabs, going back home after some crazy night. She crossed the Seine by the wooden Pont des Arts, enjoying the pale shades of the Haussmann buildings that seemed to look after the city sagely but with the seriousness of responsibility. The pride of History was showing for every single part of the capital, giving to its presence the soft weight of singularity. Paris was unique, beautiful and mysteriously bewitching.

She arrived just in time as the gardener was opening the gates and Karen couldn't help but feel moved by the idea of being the first person of the day crossing them, entering Le Jardin du Luxembourg. The public park was the largest of the city. Situated in the 6th district, it actually also served as the garden of the Senate, housed in the Luxembourg Palace. The place was quiet and extremely elegant. If you came over on a Sunday afternoon, you could see children playing with little boats in the center pond. It was like coming backwards to the beginning of the 20th century when Paris was in full swing, still ignoring the atrocities of the wars that would start a decade later and damage forever the innocence of people's minds.

Heading straight to the peculiar fountain dedicated to Marie de Médicis, the millionaire narrowed her eyes and slowed down her pace while coming closer to the intimate area of the park. Someone was standing there, someone she could have known but for not having put her glasses on, the distance between the two of them was too important, getting it all blurry. She had always loved this part, especially on rainy days when the steam of the water seemed to embrace the statue of the old queen and all of a sudden the marble sculpture got life, looking at you with the strength of a ghost. It was an odd vision but the pillars surrounding the place and the shadows of the trees created the most beautiful ensemble that Karen had ever seen. She never missed it out while being in Paris.

"What are you doing here?"

She had been right; as if even the fuzziness of her vision couldn't lead to a mistake because she would have listened to her heart where his figure was engraved in. Will turned around and smiled, obviously surprised.

"I could ask you the same. You scared me a little, Karen. I wasn't expecting you here, even less at this hour of the morning."

"I couldn't get to sleep so I went for a walk. I assume you have a similar story."

The attorney nodded and turned back to the fountain, contemplating in silence its surrealist charms. She grabbed his arm and leaned on his shoulder, tenderly.

"It's beautiful, isn't it? I love it. But now if you're missing New York, there's something you should like too… Come with me."

Its size had been reduced considerably but apart from that, the resemblance between both was obvious and funny. He shook his head in disbelief and looked at Karen, intrigued.

"What is she doing here?"

"It's the first model; the baby of ours, somehow."

"Go next to it, I'm going to take a picture and show everybody how big you are."

The dark-haired woman pouted and finally approached the statue, stepping up on it, planting a kiss on the cheek; then, thumbs up, she smiled at Will, wrapping her arms around the miniature Statue of Liberty.

A bus passed in front of them in a line of green and white. It was weird when you came from New York, not to see the slightest yellow taxi but at least all the buses were alike; it was already in itself a comforting routine. They crossed the street and as Will was taking on his right on Le Boulevard Saint Germain, Karen shook her head; pointing out a very old passage in which the pavings had probably never been replaced since the 19th century and the road was all weird now; sloping completely. The glass of the window stores had faded with the time passing by, keeping alive the authenticity of the hidden place. Almost murmuring in a motion of respect, the millionaire leaned over her friend, caressing his ear with her warm breath.

"There's a lot of passages like this one in Paris. That's why you have to open your eyes wider here or you will miss out on the real beauty of this city. I'm hungry, aren't you? Let's stop at La Jacobine. It's an excellent café right in the middle of this passage. We will call Jack and Grace, then."

She was happy, shamefully happy. In spite of what people could think, she got on well with Will, shared a lot with him. She had stopped counting their mutual interests for a very long while. It wasn't just about sex; the rhetoric of a love affair. They were friends, very good ones and even though she would have pretended the exact opposite, she felt happy when she was seen holding his arms because everybody could think then that their couple was sincere, honest and true. She loved people's misunderstanding and that's why she genuinely grinned when the waitress mistook her for the attorney's girlfriend. She might say in her head that she was offended but her heart kept on telling the same; she was touched and proud in the craziness of a disturbing fantasy.


	8. The secretive life

**The secretive life**

It wasn't the end but tasted like it; the bitterness of a full page with the irreversible sensation we have to turn it and leave it behind. The end of a summer when the sun goes down and the sand stops invading your shoes, little by little. She had been angry with him for not being here but all of a sudden, she almost regretted that he was finally coming.

He liked red. It was a pretty classic choice but it turned him on a lot; maybe for the contrast it offered with her fair complexion and the wavy lace embracing the generous curves of her breasts and hips. She was counting the hours she had left before facing the wall of impossibility and Stanley's return next to her. She had felt so free without her husband, subconsciously enjoying the presence of her friend, this man she was getting attached to a bit more than what she was expecting. They would have to put an end to their nocturne encounters and the sudden whims of the day. She knew she shouldn't see it like that but she couldn't help it and thought about Wednesday like a step backwards; an abrupt comeback to the routine of New York and the spell of Paris got broken in silence.

Karen sighed and swallowed back the odd sentiment, trying to focalize on the present and all the things she was still able to do before Stanley's flight landing on the French tarmac. She grabbed her purse and left her suite, her high heels embracing the carpeted floor of the corridor with self-confidence in a feminine motion. She hadn't given into any extravaganza and wore a simple but elegant knee-length black dress; an expensive red lipstick adding a touch of sensuality to her low-cut and mysterious gaze, matching with her red lacy underwear. She didn't feel like enjoying the evening but needed it at the most; and so she would get it.  
People used to think it was stubbornness. She saw it more like determination; the impossibility to give up before reaching her aim, no matter that it was for a drink or a hundred million dollar bill. If she wanted something then she would get it, period. She was extremely convincing and hard-working at the end. That's why she was considered as very effective in spite of her so-called laziness. Grace knew about it even though she didn't really understand the reason why the millionaire decided to set the whole process off all of a sudden .

"Oh God, Karen… What are you looking for in that dress?"

Jack looked at the interior designer then turned back to the dark-haired woman and shrugged.

"I guess it's pretty obvious, isn't it?"

Feigning to have some problems with her necklace, she turned her back at Will and tended him the platinum chain; ignoring sagely the expected comments coming from her friends.

"Honey could you please help me with that?"

The attorney took the jewel as she leaned her head on a side, allowing him a full view on her cleavage. With subtly she molded her body against his. The message was clear: she simply wanted him after hours and hours of teasing.

The music was loud but definitely bewitching like the narrow room of the bar located in some old cellar of The Left Bank. The place was crowded and the fluid movements of the dancers seemed to get lost in the clicking of the bottles of beer; the glasses of red wine and a couple of laughters lighting up the scene as the band was playing jazz with the delicacy of intimate encounters. The musicians had a break after a twenty-minute performance but the dance floor that wasn't actually one but a mere space between the stage and the first tables kept on moving slowly under the melody of the discs. Kissing Jack's cheek, she looked down at her glass and realized it was empty. She was thirsty though and so she stood up, heading towards the counter of the bar to get another one. A jazzy mix of the famous James Bond soundtrack resounded all of a sudden and as she grabbed her bottle of beer, her eyes met his.

He was standing on the door frame of the toilets, ready to go back to their table but had frozen while seeing her just a few inches away; the whole crowd of dancers separating them from their naïve friends. She took a sip without breaking the exchanged gaze and smiled mischievously at him, raising her eyebrows in defiance.

_Do you want to dance?_

Her request had been quiet but explicit enough and she walked towards him slowly, swallowing hard under the urge of reaching his mouth in a deep kiss. She could certainly not do that in public but having some fun was highly recommended. She grabbed his neck, the cold bottle brushing his skin and making him shiver in anticipation as her hips got clutched to his inner thighs and she started moving softly against him with a deliberate provocation, still staring at him. It didn't take Will that long before letting his hands go down her waist, her lower back as their thrusts speeded up their pace under the song. She was breathing loud, swallowing hard before the weight of his gaze and the burning feeling that his fingers left on her skin; very sensitive parts of her body.

It seemed that the elements to create the perfect harmony had been put together throughout the song; the excitement that the closeness to their friends procured, the sentiment they could get caught up, and the serenity of the innocent thoughts that Grace and Jack could get if they actually saw them in spite of the massive amount of people dancing around them. Her tongue caressed her lips hungrily and she moaned in his arms as she felt the response of his body against hers. Teasing was a devilish game, addicting but couldn't be interpreted as something else than the prelude to more adult actions. Foreplays were great but definitely better when they actually led to paroxysm.

For some reason, Karen got trapped into the sensual lyrics of the song that was playing in the background and her heart jumped before the peculiar coincidence.  
_  
People doing people things  
Whatever that might be  
They go on about their business  
Too wrapped up to see  
In the shadows,  
My unblinking eye,  
I love the secretive life_

She smiled at the attorney and recognized that she indeed had a thing for her secretive life but wishing though that Stanley wasn't playing along and that he was really unable to see what was happening.

Small wonder how they ended their night or why they finally closed their eyes while the sun was showing timidly through the gray sky. They made love twice with the intensity that only fears can bring; like when we are afraid we're about to lose our life, the reason of our breath. She rolled on her side and settled further in Will's arms, the sheets loosely wrapped around her naked body. Tomorrow was another day but still, it didn't mean that she had to forget everything and even less to put an end to it.


	9. Things weigh so much sometimes

**Things weigh so much sometimes**

She had felt like crying the whole day; the tears getting trapped in her throat, silently hurting. It was the same sensation that you feel when you are unable to do anything right while the others ge it with a disturbing facility. It was shameful and depressing but you pretended it was okay and you were fine. Most of the time your heavy state of mind passed completely unnoticed but it was hard for your heart; maybe a little too hard. And now, the dark-haired woman was suffering from the situation while she had found it so funny before. It was supposed to be a game, a delightful one where the senses flirted with the paroxysm of a secret, turning every single detail in an exciting excuse for the flesh. She just didn't want it to come to an end.

They came back to the George V late in the afternoon. She would have loved going away, leaving everything behind; and then get a new life. It was the scheme she had been facing during a lot of years. When you can't bear your existence anymore, and then get another one. Something sounded wrong all of a sudden, vaguely frightening. Karen was full of doubts like the first day of work when you still have to learn a lot, for not saying everything. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, leaning on the door of her bathroom. She wasn't fine at all and needed to speak but for the very first time the sharpness of reality hit her right on the face and she realized that she couldn't but stay quiet. Frowning, she headed to her bed and sat down slowly, taken aback by her distress. Her shaking hand grabbed her Blackberry and without really knowing why, she dialed the number; the tone piercing her ears icily. She heard her peculiar voice and burst into tears, relieved somehow; and so scared before what was coming.

"I need to talk to you, mom."

They had never felt embarrassed after their savage and first encounter against the wall of the Central Park South building, under the rain. Quietly they had retrieved for their clothes and gone back to the street as if nothing had happened. He had hailed a cab and she had climbed into it, going back to her penthouse. He had preferred to walk and enjoy a singular feeling. Two days later she had booked the suite at The Lowell. For some reason, she had never doubted that Will only wanted a one-night stand. It was clearly the beginning and they had ended up in bed; again. Perhaps they were afraid of the way the events had turned and that's why they had never talked about it. She didn't regret the lack of words, of explanations. It had sounded so right until Paris.

He kissed her noise, she twisted her hands; her mother's advices sounding loud in her head. She was confused and lost. A shy smile played on her lips and she looked at Stanley in silence. He was unpacking his suitcase, giving her some news about New York and his boring business. She didn't know why she asked him that; at this exact moment. It didn't make sense at all except for her heart, perhaps.

"What's my favorite drink, honey?"

He looked up at her in disbelief as if she had just lost her mind. His eyes scanned the room and he finally shrugged, coming back to his clothes.

"What do I know? Karen… I'd say anything with alcohol in it."

He left the room and closed the door of the bathroom to have a shower. She stayed still on the mattress, completely baffled by his answer. She felt like she had been slapped on the face not for the mistake in itself but the image the millionaire had sent back to her own mind. She still could laugh and overplay her drinking habits but when the doors of intimacy got closed, she was always sincere. But obviously Stanley couldn't make the distinction and she was just an alcoholic to him.

"I need some fresh air…"

She said it blankly to nobody in particular as she was actually alone in the suite. She stood up and left the room absent-mindedly; in shock somehow. But once in the corridor, Karen realized that she had nowhere to go and so she began to wander aimlessly through the floor. Subconsciously or not she landed at the bar where the bottles formed a sage and pernicious row like small soldiers ready to fight for life; or against it, she wasn't sure. Anyway the minutes passed by and it became all fuzzy as the glasses of vodka were feeding her lonely veins.

"Stanley told me I would probably find you here. Do you mind if I join you?"

The millionaire turned around and shook her head, motioning the seat next to her to her friend.

"Help yourself. What do you want to drink? It'll be on me or better said on Stan."

The interior designer ordered a Cosmopolitan and started sipping it awkwardly, vaguely embarrassed by the silence coming from Karen. She seemed to be dying as if all the lights of her heart had been turned off and she had closed the curtains over her joy in an eternal motion.

"I guess my marriage is breaking apart."

She passed her tongue over her lips, trying in vain to wash the words off her mouth but the certitude she was right seemed to ease the pain over her injured heart. She had adopted the tone of confession. It was rare but not the first time either and Grace knew her well enough to interpret correctly the degree of despair that had invaded her soul.

"Why do you think that?"

"I'm not happy with Stan. He's nice with me; vaguely tactless sometimes but he doesn't do that in purpose. He only wants the best for me and I can't give it to him back. I don't love him. I never did and I just realized that I won't have this kind of feelings for him. My life is breaking apart because I owe everything to this man while it's just a façade."

"Do you want to get a divorce?"

"I don't know."

Her voice was blank, as much as her mind; and she was staring, almost lifeless, at the reflection of her figure in the fuzziness of an old bottle of whisky. Grace looked down and cleared her voice, vaguely hesitating before finally speaking again.

"Is there someone else?"

She winced twice, unaware of the fact that her mouth was slightly open and she looked down aside. She gauged her watch and for some reason knew immediately that she would remember the time of this moment for the rest of her life. Her words got lost in a murmur of lies.

"I don't know."


	10. Wandering like a ghost

**Wandering like a ghost**

She woke up in his arms, not her husband's but Will's warm ones; extremely confused for not remembering how she could have ended up there. Before her sudden and emerging panic, Karen began to shake uncontrollably but a sentiment of shame seemed to win over the rest and the dark-haired woman stayed still in bed. It took her a couple of minutes to realize that she wasn't naked but still fully clothed as a subtle and pernicious headache was hitting against the walls of her blurry brain. The air burned her throat while taking a deep breath but she finally got up carefully and left the room blankly.

The limousine stopped in front of a splendid manor resting in the shadows of one-hundred-year-old trees at the very end of a quiet alley. The place was charming, confusing the eyes before the sensation we were going backwards to a time when innocence rhymed with the elegance of a respectful gaze towards the sky. They stepped out of the car in silence and joined the other guests in the main lobby where thousands of mirrors gave a special shade to the place. For some reason her troubled mind seemed to have contaminated her friends and a veil of awkwardness had enveloped them all since they had left the hotel; as if the excitement of the beginning was slowly turning into the faded taste of an old routine. And before the sudden change of atmosphere, Karen felt terribly guilty.

Stanley's cousin was a very nice lawyer who had decided to cross the ocean and succeed in Paris. His odd decision had stirred up a lot of arguments through the Walkers' minds but after a couple of years in France, it had resulted that obviously, the young man had been right and he was now one of the most powerful attorneys of the city. Without any particular reason, his long-time girlfriend and he had decided to tie the knot unexpectedly, perhaps in an attempt to break the monotony of perfection and lack of surprises. While they all looked extremely tight, serious and business-centered, Matthew had always owned a sort of bohemian spirit that Karen had looked upon with envy. Instead of facing with difficulty his differences, he had made them his main weapon; a charming characteristic that had become with the years the heart of his singular beauty. You couldn't resist his smiles, the way he spoke and the vivacity of his mind. Matthew Walker was the man that every single woman was dreaming about.

She grabbed a glass of champagne and headed to the terrace overlooking a park and the dependences of the manor. Children were running through the grass, passing next to little groups chatting over foie gras and caviar. Everything was extremely refined but with this note of originality so typical from Matt, reflected in the absence of long tables and eternal lunches that seemed to defy the wisest person's patience. You grabbed a plate and made your own meal before heading to some place and enjoying the imminent wedding.

Stanley was having a shower when she had come back to their suite that morning. He hadn't said a word, just smiled softly and kissed her nose. Perhaps he hadn't noticed that she hadn't fallen asleep next to him; unless he just didn't want to make her angry with personal questions and so he kept on pretending. Either way, Karen wasn't fine. It was nice of him but way too much and she couldn't help but feeling like she was playing with him as if he were a dog, a simple fool; but he was not. Sooner or later they would have to talk; no matter how hard it would be or painful. Sometimes you couldn't escape from a couple of words.

The millionaire jumped as she felt his lips on her temple and his arms around her shoulder. She leaned on his chest and smiled, still observing the sweet scene of the park.

"Did you find the right guy, honey?"

"Yes I did."

Pushed by a wave of curiosity, Karen looked at Jack and raised her eyebrows, waiting for an explanation. The actor grinned but finally sighed and pouted.

"Unfortunately he is getting married on Saturday and so far from New York, the Jack McFarland magic isn't that effective."

She laughed lightly and rubbed the back of his hand in a comforting motion.

"I'm sorry for you, honey."

The night fell down over the manor, taking away the bright colors of the stone and the architectural perfection but it only lasted a little while until the dark shades of the moon embraced the place in a bewitching motion. The contrast with the sunlight was sharp but symbolic at the same time; reflecting two different types of spectral beauty that seemed to get along very well. It was a pure logic. Torches got lit up at every corner of the place; caressing the alleys of the park, the fountain in its center and the labyrinth that one of the owners had made at the beginning of the 18th century. The rooms were full of light and noise, boiling minds laughing loud; the clicking of the glasses in the heat of happiness. The outside quietness vaguely looked lonely but relaxing and the semi-darkness extremely tempting for intimate gazes.

She wasn't bored but simply felt like avoiding people, having a rest on her own; apart. She passed the old stables and was about to turn on her left to come back to a regular path when she found herself facing him all of a sudden in the darkness of the night. She hadn't really looked in front of her, lost in her wonders until then; and so he had passed unnoticed to her eyes. The breeze caressed her nape and she shivered, smiling shyly at him. They hadn't exchanged the slightest word since the morning, taken away in the dizzy whirl of the events. They stopped under a porch where the flame of a torch was dancing on the walls, over their face.

"Are you enjoying your time here?"

Will nodded and put the glass of wine he was holding down on the ground.

"I lost Grace though. I'm looking for her. Have you seen her?"

"No, I'm sorry."

The attorney was about to reply when her high-pitched voice drowned his words in the murmur of his heart.

"I miss you… What happened last night?"

It didn't last more than twenty seconds and as complicated as her life sounded, she had subconsciously managed to summarize it in two sentences. She felt disarmed, naked somehow and so she looked down to avoid his brown eyes. His fingers brushed her chin to make her abandon the contemplation of the ground and she found again the warmness of his smile; his implicit understanding with the sage bitterness imposed by existence. Her hands slid on his chest, going up slowly to his neck as she leaned over like him. She could feel his breath on her skin, so warm, so perfect. Their lips brushed each other's but the kiss got lost in the air as Grace's voice resounded loud a few steps away from them.

"Will, where are you?"


	11. The lightness of the night

**The lightness of the night**

"Come with me!"

She abandoned the contemplation of the path through which Grace was approaching and frowned, staring at him in confusion. She didn't have enough time to speak though as the attorney grabbed her hand and began to run through the park, getting swallowed by the darkness of the night. Her feet were brushing the grass in a delicate motion of pace and the whiteness of her dress seemed to fly in the air with the fluidity of pure souls. They stopped a bit further and leaned against the trunk of some tree, breathless. The ridiculousness of their odd decision hit them all of a sudden and they burst out laughing before the delightful sentiment of some childish game; extremely stupid but warm. He leaned over and captured her moist lips in a hungry kiss; she moaned in his mouth.

"Karen, are you there?"

They broke apart and looked towards the direction where Jack's voice came from. They started running again in the anonymity of places that weren't lit up by the torches. It was like hunting; mice escaping from cats and whenever they felt safe, reality hit them almost immediately. And they succumbed to their laughs, over and over; stifled by the boldness of their kisses getting multiplied as soon as they stopped. His hand slid on her hip; her foot caressed his ankle. The furtive break faded away before their naïve friends and the waltz of their hearts joined the excitement of their minds; the brightness of their smiles and the hunger of their eyes.

They entered the labyrinth and stopped in the middle of a path; lost in its entrails and the desires of their bodies. They kissed again and disappeared behind a bush leading to a dead-end path of the pernicious place. The strength of their gestures pushed them back until they stumbled against a tree and finally let their instincts guide them. She arched her back and bit her lower lip in the intensity of Will's thrusts; and the heat of his body against hers. Grace and Jack weren't far, still looking for them. It looked like they had also entered the labyrinth and were wandering around, so close to the silence of their feelings.

His tongue was playing with the pale skin of her neck as her legs, holding tight onto his waist, were getting more and more tensed under the pace of their movements. It reminded her of Central Park South and how they had made love under the rain for the first time. And it's when she realized that she was actually fine; as if the lightness of her heart had found its place in her existence. Nothing really mattered anymore apart from her own pleasure. Her fingers dug into his skin as a warm wave of strong sensations ran throughout her body and she swallowed hard, shivering under Will's last thrusts.

Jack turned on his left and his scream got stifled by his hand on his mouth as he came face-to-face with Grace whose sudden encounter with the actor had caused her to get as livid as a ghost. Both friends exchanged a look of anger and fear before finally coming back to the reason of their presence there.

"Karen, where are you? Are you with Will? Damn it's not funny. We're looking for you two."

"Jack is that you?"

A high-pitched voice resounded on Grace's left and so she turned around, looking at nothing but dark bushes vaguely moving under the breeze.

"Karen, is that you?"

"Of course, it's me, honey. But where are you? I can't see you. No wait, is that Grace?"

"Grace, where are you?"

The red-haired woman turned on her heels and looked at a path on her right. Jack had given up, completely overwhelmed by the tortuous consequences of the labyrinth. It could have been funny if he hadn't drunk so many glasses of champagne. Now it was just annoying and perfect to get a headache before the typical one of the next morning.

"Yes, Karen, it's me. I'm… Well, I'm somewhere on your right, I guess. Will I'm on your left."

"Are you in a dead-end path, honey?"

Grace shook her head but realized that neither the attorney nor the millionaire could see her. She made a face and checked her surroundings.

"No I'm not. This is a normal path. Pass through the bushes, you're not far."  
"That's what I'm doing!"

A rustle and a couple of sighs finally released a messy Karen and she stumbled forward just in time to fall in Jack's arms.

"Bloody hell!"

"Oh God, Karen you look like… You look like Grace on a very bad day."

The dark-haired woman stuck her tongue at the actor and proceeded to clean up her clothes as much as she could while Will finally arrived through another path. She looked up at him furtively and noticed he had had enough time to adjust his clothes and comb his hair with his hands. She wished she had been able to do it too and so she wouldn't have had to pass through some bush and look like a fury.

It was worth it though. She restrained a smile and stared at her friends, playing along the millionaire's boredom and crossed her arms on her chest; looking pissed off.

"What the hell were you doing in this labyrinth, Karen?"

Jack's question took her aback but she hid her surprise almost immediately and shrugged.

"I was with my lover, of course."

She loved doing that; telling the truth that seemed so huge that her friends only thought she was joking, sending them to hell politely. She felt as guilty as if she was actually lying but it was great, especially when Will got livid under her crazy remark. He looked so scared.

"Oh, aren't you funny? Anyway, Stan is looking for you."

"He really is? How weird, I can't see him."

The dark-haired woman turned around and pretended to check every single inch of the place. Jack rolled his eyes.

"He's in the lobby. I told him that I would go for you. There's something he wants to talk to you about. It seems to be important."

She bit her lower lip as a bitter smile lit up her face.

"I bet two hundred dollars that the bastard can't stay until Saturday."

With that she rushed through the path, looking for the exit with a blind anger. Her friends followed her in silence until Will turned towards Grace; taking her arm.

"By the way why were you looking for me?"

"I was bored. I needed gay entertainment."

"What were you doing here?"

He shrugged and smiled mysteriously.

"I was looking for my lucky star."

Playing along, Grace kissed his cheek and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Did you find it?"

"I guess so."


	12. The show must go on

**The show must go on**

The sudden wind hit her face with an unexpected violence and she huddled up against herself; bending over, pushing away a strand of hair from her face. She was breathless and the muscles of her legs were shouting in silence that she shouldn't have taken those stairs for not being that young. She could pretend that time had no hold over her but she knew it was just about appearances. She stopped in the middle and let her eyes scan the place from the ground to the air; from the gray of the concrete to the blue of the sky. She didn't say a word, barely moved. But very soon a bright smile lit up her face as her eyes began to sparkle. The landscape was simply unbelievable. She could see so far; there, over the buildings, at the very end of Paris.

"Where is Stanley?"

She turned around and looked at Will for a couple of seconds before coming back to the contemplation of the French capital. She had been wrong about her husband. He didn't have to leave earlier or at least not yet. She didn't care as a matter of fact. Something had changed; the conception she used to have about life. For a few days she had let her mind control her heart and her desires and that's why she had begun to have doubts about a lot of things. She just stopped thinking while realizing that feelings had nothing to do with conscious and controlled acts.

"He's at the hotel; probably sleeping."

She grabbed the attorney's hand and pressed it tightly.

"Isn't it beautiful?"

She pointed out with her chin at the city spread below; the perfection of Les Champs Elysées and the Haussmann buildings. She smiled at her friend and kept on talking.

"I don't like The Eiffel Tower. The architecture is way too violent. It's sharp."

"Its form is extremely provocative…"

"But The Arc of Triumph has its serenity that we're all looking for. It's majestic and respectful; like a painting of Italian Renaissance. The shapes are strong and imposing but there's an old sentiment that ends up dominating; the beauty of weakness, of uncertainty. And this is where you can find the difference between a mere monument and a masterpiece."

The attorney smiled and caressed the millionaire's eyes with an amused gaze.

"Are you high or something?"

Karen pouted before rolling her eyes and heading to the other side of the roof where a couple of Japanese girls were taking pictures. She bent over but closed her eyes as a wave of vertigo invaded her brain and froze her slightest movement. She hadn't really planned anything except a furtive moment of intimacy; a sweet hour of a peculiar friendship. But obviously her heart was asking for more and she needed to satisfy another whim.

"Why did you sleep with me in the first place, Will? Why did you choose me while I'm married? You turned Grace down and realized that you preferred men. Why did you change?"

She avoided his brown eyes, way too scared of her own words and confused before the reason why she had asked him that. They had never talked about themselves, never tried to analyze it. She frowned and looked down, wondering why she had made her choice over such a subject while if it was all about conversation, she could have spoken about the weather or the last movie they had watched together.

"You're like a mermaid. Do you see what I mean?"

The dark-haired woman shook her head but let her friend go on.

"In the legends the mermaids used to bewitch the sailors thanks to their voices, the way they sang and danced. The lonely men succumbed and got trapped in the divinities' nets. Their boats sank and they died for the mysterious sirens of the sea. You're like them, Karen: sexy, provocative, irresistible and I'm just lonely."

"Do you think you're my prey?"

"No, I guess we both fell and got trapped in the nets of a love affair."

She didn't reply for knowing to perfection the meaning of his words; the sensation of addiction and the gloomy light looking after their lies. She didn't like that much, getting laid in the darkness of silence but it had turned vital through the years and she couldn't imagine life without it now.

"I guess I don't feel like attending this wedding. I'm not comfortable with Stanley's family. I feel nervous and in the way. They're judging me; whatever I do or say. They look at me and I'm not stupid, you know. As much as they don't say a word, it's obvious they hate me."

"Then why did you come here?"

"I do it for Stan. I may not love him but still, we're married."

The rain began to pour and all of a sudden the roof of The Arc of Triumph had the emptiness of its nights, the quietness of its early mornings. The Japanese girls went away like all the other tourists and they found themselves alone, overlooking Paris. She locked her eyes with him and smiled slowly; then turned on her heels, twirling around until she felt his hands on her waist. He moulded his body against hers and she bit her lower lip, touched by the reminiscence of an odd beginning.

"You remember it?"

Will nodded and leaned over, his lips brushing hers while the raindrops were falling over their skin; sliding on their cheeks and getting lost in the curves of their chins.

"Having a love affair with a friend isn't something we can easily forget."

She passed her arms around his neck and smiled mischievously.

"As long as you don't call me Ariel, I accept to be your mermaid."

They stopped by Ladurée on Les Champs Elysées for a cup of tea and a couple of macaroons in the quietness of the very hype place and the silence of their gazes; the soft shame of their acts like his hand over hers and the irrepressible desire to lean over and share a kiss. But none of them would cross the limits of their fantasies to engrave them into the brightness of reality because it was prohibited. And as she didn't feel like going back to the palace, Karen restrained herself and only exchanged a couple of smiles.

Grace and Jack arrived after the millionaire called them, finding a poor excuse to the reason why she was already there with Will. Sometimes she came to think that her friends were probably blind for not seeing the slightest thing, the strangeness of situations. Did they lack logic? She had wanted them to come over so that they may not end up in bed that quickly but the temptation was too strong and her hand slid up along his thigh slowly, resting there in the heat of his skin and her boiling feelings. Her heart speeded up its pace and she started breathing louder when his own fingers passed underneath her skirt; no matter that she was talking to Grace and staring at her with the strength of a dishonest gaze. She settled further on the couch and spread slightly her legs to give him more access as her own hand kept on caressing him with the anonymity of the most horrible things. She felt guilty all of a sudden for making her friends live an unknown perpetual lie but it was worth it. She swallowed hard and hid her shivers; taking a deep breath.

Yes, it was worth it.


	13. What we left in Paris

**What we left in Paris**  
She passed through the door of her penthouse and looked blankly all around her with the sentiment she was invading a lonely place; an abandoned one. That was something that had never changed in spite of the years and the new social class she belonged to. Yet when she came back home after some vacations with her parents, the little girl she was by then couldn't help but notice the coldness of the house as if the walls had lost their well-known identity after her departure. A couple of days would be required to overcome this disturbing sensation and then life would go on until the next time she would pack her suitcase and go away again.

One, two, three.

She opened the door of her bedroom and smiled before the figures of the furniture she knew were hers. Not paying attention at all to Stanley's voice in the background, the dark-haired woman headed towards the window to contemplate Central Park and the bright green of the trees getting mixed with the perfection of the grass. She had missed New York for all the things it meant. In America she didn't try to analyze the slightest aspect of her existence; she simply let it take her away rocked by the evidence of adult responsibilities. And Paris was far behind, now; like her dreadful wonders.

"Where are Olivia and Mason?"

Her unexpected interest in his children made him frown as his brain was working under high speed in order to find out the reason why Karen had asked such thing. Had they done something wrong?

"They are at their mother's place. Is there any problem?"

Swallowing back a fake laugh, she shook her head; lost in the contemplation of The Upper East Side and out there, behind the trees, the Dakota Buildings announcing Central Park West.

"I see… That's why it's so quiet."

She turned on her heels and smiled at her husband.

"I need a martini. Do you want something?"

The most difficult thing was to keep the right proportion between the pink flesh and the whiteness of the nail. It was a detailed work where precision required an important amount of concentration. The slightest mistake and you had to start it all over again, shorter. This kind of gesture could lead to a nightmare. But with the years Karen had become a filing nail expert and even under torture, she wouldn't miss out her manicure. The self-confidence of experience had settled down the firmness of the movement, from right to left. It was a perpetual coming and going on the edge of her fingers, a kind of waltz in solitaire in which the result was the unnoticed detail that made the difference; the invisible final touch to the perfection she wanted to incarnate.

"Can I see your tattoo?"

It hadn't happened since her twelfth birthday. The nail file slid all along her finger and broke the nail as she choked on Grace's question. Looking blankly at the manicure damage, the dark-haired woman smiled nervously at her friend. In spite of her efforts to remain calm and quiet, her features tended to show the exact opposite and for the very first time, she looked panicked.

"What are you talking about, honey?"

The interior designer grabbed a stool and sat down in front of her assistant's desk; leaning her elbow over a pile of fashion magazines.

"Will told us yesterday that you had a tattoo. Jack said he was lying because he had never seen it and you had never told him about it. So do you have a tattoo, Karen? And if you do, where is it? I have my opinion on it though if Jack never came to see it…"

"It's no big deal…"

Obviously embarrassed and blushing, Karen looked down; pushing away an invisible strand of hair from her face, trying to get more time to prepare the explanation Grace was waiting for.

"It's just a snake that bites its tail. You know; a circular stuff."

Grace's eyes widened under the surprise of such confession; then she frowned.

"Where is it?"

"It might be on my lower stomach; the very far end of it…"

Ashamed she looked aside, desperate before the heavy silence winning over the office. If only the phone could have rung or a delivery man entered the room… They would have passed right away to something else and forgotten about it for her highest relief. Unfortunately it looked like Karen wasn't that lucky that morning. All of a sudden another disturbing reality hit the millionaire's mind and she couldn't help but ask her friend about her burning doubts.

"How come Will spoke about it?"

"We were debating over tattoos; that's all. It's when he told us that you had one and he had got to know about it when he had accompanied you to some medical check up. You had an infection once because of it, right?"

Applauding in silence at the attorney's lie, Karen nodded and began to relax.

"Yeah, that's right. I got this tattoo when I was seventeen and the guys out there weren't very fond of hygienic rules so I got an infection but it only lasted a little while and the tattoo is okay now."

"Can I see it?"

The dark-haired woman put an instinctive hand over her lower stomach and looked horrified; feigningly horrified.

"Grace this is not the right place and even less the right time to get me undressed so that you may take advantage of my anatomy!"

She let herself fall down on the mattress and looked at the ceiling of the suite for a couple of seconds before she heard the door opening and recognized the sound of his steps on the carpeted floor. She locked her eyes with his and frowned, adopting a very low tone of voice.

"You're going to pay for the tattoo thing, Will."

Her revenge got lost though in the wave of kisses the attorney planted on her neck as he laid on top of her and they both burst out laughing. She closed her eyes as his fingers traced a path underneath her skirt, brushing consciously the snake; his lips joining his hand over it as he took off her clothes.

She thought about Paris and the friendly wedding; the rain pouring down and their loud breaths when they were making love. She remembered Stanley sleeping peacefully next to her in the morning and the way Grace and Jack simply followed without second-guessing anything. She arched her back and bit her lower lip as Will's ministrations stirred up a whole wave of warm feelings.

Then she finally pushed away her wonders and the taste of guilt as she succumbed to the delightful sensation of secret that only a love affair could bring to her loneliness. They were back in New York in the routine of their silence and the strength of their whims.


	14. Who will stop that?

**Who will stop that?**

It was somewhere on her left between the emptiness of her bones and the fragility of her flesh; a tiny sensation of pain running through her veins before reaching her heart in silence. Then a strong wave of air seemed to prevent her throat from giving the message to her lungs and so it came out through her eyes like a million of diamonds glimmering on her face. She began to cry without any particular reason, feeling the salt on her lips and the sentiment she was alive somehow; sad but alive.

"What are you doing?"

Karen jumped and frowned; then cleared her voice, pushing back her sudden sobs to the very far end of her mind in a place where she was sure she would never go again.

"I'm not doing a lot, Grace."

The interior designer squatted down at the weak sound of her friend's voice and locked her eyes with her hazel ones; still glimmering through the veil of tears and the quiet pain coming from her heart. She smiled at Grace and rolled her eyes in an attempt to push away the sad impression she was giving to her friend; then sighed.

"I'm okay, don't be worried."

"Then why are you crying? What's happening in your silent mind, Karen?"

_Probably a lot of things that you'd rather ignore, honey; believe me. It's better like that. _She shrugged and looked aside, staring blankly at the cover of a Vogue issue where a teenager was biting her lower lip in a motion that was supposed to be sensual but it only looked odd because of her young features.

"I don't know. Do we need a reason to?"

Grace swallowed back her gasp, surprised before her friend's reaction who for once hadn't given into lies. She had been honest over her weaknesses and the red-haired woman started wondering why she was staying serious for once.

"No but I wonder why you're sad. Is there something wrong? Does something bother you? Is it about Stanley?"

"I don't know… I don't think so. I may just be tired and it's raining so it's the perfect time to cry, isn't it?"

Grace didn't say a word and let her eyes look down absent-mindedly at the wooden floor; studying Karen's words. She was about to reply when her arms found themselves around her friend's shoulders and she simply hugged her, in silence.

"Thank you for being here, Karen."

The millionaire broke apart and looked at the interior designer; confusion in her eyes.

"What are you thanking me for?"

"It's nothing and everything at the same time, you know. Thank you for being my friend, for lighting up my days with your sarcastic comments and this singular way of yours to tell that you do care about us. It's a whole, somehow. And I just want to thank you for that."

For a couple of seconds Karen hesitated between some sharp reply and a sincere one. But she thought about Will all of a sudden and realized that she was far from being the woman her friend had just described; intimate images passing through her brain, hurting her heart. And for the very first time the millionaire wondered if it weren't time to put an end to their secretive life. She shook her head; then passed her tongue over her lips, avoiding Grace's gaze.

"You shouldn't say that, honey. If there's something sure about me is that I always end up disappointing everybody."

She stood up to prepare some coffee, putting an implicit end to the discussion while the rage of her feelings was invading her soul slowly.  
She needed an "A" for "antonomasia" but all she had for now was an "X" and four "P" and she felt miserable in anticipation before the word she was about to put down instead: "pet". She made a face as her friends stifled some laughter before her ridiculous score.

"Oh, Karen… I see you're learning new words every day, how great!"

"Drop dead, Wilma."

She was good at Monopoly but always sucked at Scrabble. She was just being unlucky when it came to words as if she lacked this capacity of coming up with them at the right time, with the right people. Money seemed to be easier to manipulate than the English vocabulary. She stood up and headed to the kitchen.

"I need a drink or ten."

"But Karen… Seeing your words doubled won't get you a better score!"

A fake smile played on her lips as she came back to the table holding a bottle of vodka.

"Aren't you funny, Gracie? This game doesn't like me. I could play it over and over for ten years that it wouldn't change the slightest thing."

The interior designer smiled and looked with melancholy at her friends.

"Do you even think about life in ten years? Where will we be, with whom?"

Jack shrugged, chewing the straw of his pink cocktail.

"Yeah, I will be rich and famous while you will be dealing with diapers and bibs, trying to remember why you would have decided to get a family. I will be happy with my husband and my dog…"

"And we will be debating over pre-schools in the city."

Will and Grace laughed out loud before what seemed evidence to them. Jack seemed happy too. She looked at them in silence, vaguely taken aback by the sudden coldness spreading over her heart. Her friends wanted to move forward and they had planned everything. She took a sip of vodka; then frowned.

"Is it how you really see it, Jackie? You think I will be a mom?"

The actor scoffed and looked at her in disbelief.

"Of course, I do. Why? How do you see you in ten years?"

Her eyes got lost in the blank contemplation of the table and the emptiness of her mind. She had absolutely no idea about that. She hated having dreams because from experience she knew that you could never grant them properly.

"I like the way it is now. I don't want it to change."

_I need you all to go on; don't leave me behind, please._

Will grabbed her hand and pressed it softly, locking his eyes with hers.

"We have no hold over time and evolution, Karen."

She looked at him and frowned before her tongue resounding loud against her teeth and the double-meaning of her remark.

"We have no hold over anything, Will; and even less over our feelings."


	15. The shadows of high heels

**The shadows of high heels**

Karen was surprising. She invited you for dinner at The Four Seasons and you ended up at some club lost somewhere in Washington Heights. While her whole behavior sounded harsh and hateful, her heart was crying for tenderness and love; unless it was the exact opposite and you never knew what to do before her mysterious whims. She could change within a second, burst into tears and smile brightly at the same time. She would look offended if you dared to suggest a walk through the park and the day after her hand would slide along yours and together you would admire the rural landscape; sitting down on the grass. Some people used to identify her to a spoiled child who didn't care at all about the others, a sort of self-centered person who was only there to get satisfied. It was hard to follow her logic because she simply didn't have one as if the slightest decision froze her brain and, panicked, she went straight into the opposite direction; no matter that it was so far from her original desires.

But one thing remained in spite of all the rest: she never let you down when seriousness was required and that's why you couldn't help but think that, at the end, she was a very good friend.

Will looked at his watch and frowned. She was never late and most of the time when he passed the door of the suite, she was the one who was waiting for him. But the minutes were passing by that afternoon and the millionaire hadn't shown up yet. She couldn't have forgotten; she kept in mind way too many things for that and probably even more in her heart. Rolling on his stomach, his brown eyes followed the raindrops falling on the windows in silence; how every single one could have represented the death of a soul that was leaving this world every five seconds or so. He shook his head, troubled by such a dark image and hoped in silence that none of them was supposed to be Karen.

He was about to call on her cell phone again when the door finally opened and she entered the room, vaguely breathless. She was wearing a beige raincoat and dark sunglasses, her hair soaked wet as if she had stayed way too long under the rain but she didn't seem to care or notice it. Her arms were moving absent-mindedly from right to left, taken away by her unsteady steps and the shadows of her heels embracing the carpeted floor in an odd motion. She sat down on the bed and made her coat slide down along her shoulders. She had only put on underwear; a black lacy bra with matching thong. Both were new for Will having never seen them before but Karen's constant silence prevented him from coming up with any kind of statement. She was staring at the wall in front of her, her eyes still hidden behind the darkness of the sunglasses; her Burberry moulding her hips in a loosely motion.

She took a deep breath as her chest moved up suddenly. She was pale, almost livid except for the pink on her cheeks as if she had just stopped running. She parted her lips that were shaking; then leaned her head on a side, slowly, inviting her friend to kiss her neck. She looked like a zombie, the invisible ghost of the woman she used to be before, perhaps just a couple of minutes earlier.

"Kiss me."

Her voice had been a whisper, a vain attempt to let the words come out but with the strength of vital need though; in spite of her inaudible sounds. It may have just been an ounce that would have stolen a furtive moment of their existences but it still tasted of distress and despair.

The attorney sat up on the mattress and put a warm hand on her shivering arm. Her skin was icy. Worried, Will pushed a strand of hair away from her face, placing it behind her ear. Her usually so graceful features had been replaced by a marble mask of nothingness and even if he was standing behind her back and didn't have a full view of them, he still could picture out the shades of shock from her forehead to her chin, spreading over the rest of her body.

His lips landed on her skin softly but the awkwardness of the gesture only managed to emphasize the weirdness of the situation. She gasped under his touch, almost surprised by the heat of a human being's heart against her lonely flesh. It felt so alive, too much somehow. The room disappeared as she closed her eyes and tried to enjoy at the most Will's gesture. She felt it fly away from her throat, reaching her lips before imposing itself heavily in the air of The Lowell suite.

"Stan is dead."

How come the sky is always gray when we're mourning someone? How come the rain is always pouring down in the cold morning of a funeral and the tires of the car seem to slide dangerously on the cemetery path, producing a disturbing melody? How come you can't take your eyes off this rose that gets thrown over the oak coffin before getting joined by the ground?

Karen looked up in silence and stared at Grace and Jack standing up next to her. They seemed to be sad, in pain. Her hazel eyes caught the delicacy of Olivia's features and her fingers intertwined with her brother's. She turned her head on her left and contemplated Will and the way he was holding an umbrella to protect them both from the rain. The paleness of her hand got detached from her black dress, got suspended in the air before brushing his. The subtle touch didn't make him move but very soon she closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmness of the palm of his hand over hers.

There wasn't any shadow of high heels for once; no sharp remark or a mischievous smile, an exciting lie. Nobody really wondered what the dark-haired woman would do next, what kind of whim she would get in. It didn't matter that much because her mind had simply turned off for a while and she was lost in the labyrinth of her own nastiness.

How come she still had no regrets?


	16. The silver fish with two eyes

**The fish with two eyes on the same side**

The palm of her hand pressed his chest softly as she leaned over and planted a kiss on his lips; her leg caressing his inner thigh in a seductive motion lit up by her mischievous eyes. They hadn't stopped anything in spite of the unexpected events of Stanley's sudden death. She still refused to see him at the penthouse even though the reason seemed a bit lost now, confused and as pale as an old love. Besides the suite of the palace had adopted the shades of a well-known place, an intimate one; nobody knew what happened when the doors got closed and how she bit her lower lip while staring at him in silence, waiting for the next move. There was something not exciting but cute in all these lies; a reassuring routine perhaps.

She got up reluctantly and yawned then grabbed a skirt out of a bag. The silk was soft under her fingers, so light. She turned around and looked at Will still laid in bed.

"What does he look like?"

The attorney frowned and shook his head, almost unaware that the dark-haired woman was naked.

"I don't know. I haven't met him yet. She told me about him yesterday; how he was nice and maybe the right one."

She restrained a laugh before Grace's capacity of fantasizing right away about a wedding and that traditional scheme that she wanted so much to reach.

"Then I'm looking forward to seeing that guy. What's his name?"

"Leo; his name is Leo."

She never liked him. As soon as she shook his hand, she knew that Grace would marry him but never be happy; not really. She deserved a nice man, sweet and attentive. This one was just good at pretending that he fit to perfection the required clauses but he clearly didn't. She had met so many men, from hypocrite to disgusting married businessmen whose hands seemed to go on their own whenever nobody watched. Some were smart, others gave into manipulation with a disturbing facility and it was so rare then, so rare to finally reach any kind of happiness while being with them. Stanley was different but desperately blind before the sharpness of life and he refused systematically to accept a flagrant truth if it had to darken his idealisms. They had nothing in common, besides; that's why they had failed, in silence.

But for not being Grace, she simply closed her eyes and let things happen, little by little. They wouldn't have understood anyway and just said that she was jealous while she only prepared in the dark the comfort that her friend would need when it finally hit her mind with the violence that only reality could bring.

She looked at Jack find a job and settle into it with the determination of hope and faith. Something didn't sound right all of a sudden as if time had kept on going but for some reason she had been left behind and was unable to catch them up. It didn't work at all, as much as she was running and screaming their names. Her voice seemed to have vanished and apart from Will's body twice or four times a week, Karen's existence had lost any sparkle of light.

"Do you remember the silver fish in Arizona Dream?"

His shoulder was warm against her knee, his back caressing her heart as her fingers were running dreamingly through his hair on a Thursday evening at The Lowell. She loved when he leaned his head backwards and she tightened her grip on his whole body, her chin on his forehead as she smiled back at him.

"Yes I do. He had two eyes on the same side."

"Do you remember the symbol of this strange fact?"

"It was still a child and couldn't see straight until it turned into an adult. It's like stubbornness."

"Or like innocence, yes; it is. It couldn't be on both sides of life and wandered in between, waiting for a change."

"And the day its eye will move to the other side, it will mean that it will be wise, won't it?"

She nodded and narrowed her hazel gaze, staring at the wall in front of them; her cheek leaned against his.

"I guess I'm like this fish, Will; halfway between a lot of things."

The attorney frowned and looked down as if the mattress of the bed they were sat on would murmur the meaning of Karen's statement to him. The millionaire felt her friend's confusion and planted a kiss on his temple.

"Jack has found a job and settled down into his life. Grace is involved into a serious relationship. You have plans, beautiful ones for your future. You will be the next one to move forward and I will still have my eyes on the same side with the only exception that this silver fish ended up flying away while I will stay stuck here."

"Are you scared?"

"No, I'm frightened."

A heavy silence arrived from nowhere and imposed itself over their heads with the coldness of disillusions and the metallic taste of some wonders. A cell phone rang on the bedside table but none of them picked it up. They stayed still, focalized on the turmoil of brain cells and the failures of their hearts.

"Then take my hand and let's move forward together."

She looked at their intertwined fingers for a couple of seconds, scanning the heat of his skin against hers; then got up quickly and retrieved for her clothes.

"You know I won't, honey. You always knew it."

She kissed him good-bye and stepped out of the hotel in the darkness of the quiet night. For a moment she wondered how the clicking of her heels on the asphalt could sound so secure, so determined while they were carrying on the exact symbol of unbalance. She went up a few blocks before turning on her left and entering the lobby of her penthouse. Her silent sobs had been substituted by louder cries while she had been walking. And unaware of her tears, she climbed in the elevators; exhausted but alive, way too much for once.


	17. A New York blackout

**A ****New York**** blackout**

She stepped out of her limousine and smiled brightly as she saw him standing on the sidewalk, waiting for her. He had called her at the office earlier in the afternoon to ask her out for dinner. She liked those delicate attentions even though he wasn't obligated to; but it was so soft and warm when it came from the heart, a sincere and honest desire to spend some time out of a hotel suite. She stopped in front of him and smirked while looking up at the door of the restaurant.

"The River Café… Aren't you romantic, Will?"

The attorney leaned over and kissed her lips furtively before tending the millionaire a couple of white lilies. Taken aback by the gesture Karen frowned and began to face the non-sense of the situation as her brain simply refused to work properly on its own to come up with some clear conclusion. Sharing a meal at some restaurant belonged to their routine but even in the most intimate moment they could live together, when she was breathing hard against his naked body, there was nothing romantic; nothing that dared to make them cross the dreadful lines that separated their friendship from the rest, the other stage they didn't talk about.

"I know they are your favourite."

She passed a finger along the petals and shrugged in a timid motion, vaguely nodding before Will's statement. A subtle and pleasant heat seemed to have spread over her forehead and while she usually enjoyed this sensation, it only resulted uncomfortable there. She was troubled and confused; not because of her friend's gesture but the way she did respond in silence, how her whole body let her understand that she was touched and moved.

"They are indeed, thank you."

She scanned the room in silence but finally got absorbed into the contemplation of Manhattan and its skyline glimmering over the quiet waters in the dark. She loved the sounds that inhabited a restaurant; the rocking brouhaha of light conversations mixed with the pouring of the wine into the glasses, the subtle caress of a chair against the carpeted floor. It was intimate and so impersonal at the same time as if for once this impossible fusion had found the secret of a reunion between those walls led by a magic wand.

"Do you like this place?"

She turned her gaze towards her friend and raised her eyebrows.

"Of course I do."

She took a sip of martini and let the alcohol take her away into the charms of its abruptness, the sweetness of its character.

"What do you want from me, Will? You can have me without all these things; I guess the last years had been pretty clear about that. Just tell me why we're here tonight."

"Do I really need a reason to take you to the restaurant?"

Her reply got lost in a smile and she abdicated in silence, knowing perfectly that he was lying. It was so evident; the flowers, the place, the romantic atmosphere… Sooner or later the words would come out and hurt her soul like any time before because it was always like that; kindness only prepared the sharpness of the final deception. She let it go though and pretended that for once, she wouldn't care.

Sometimes she felt the words brush her lips devilishly. She was weak by then, on the verge of the paroxysm of her feelings, holding him tight against her, wishing nothing but the heat of his own body and the sensuality of his kisses on her skin. They were going up her stomach, twirling around her heart before embracing her mouth; then died in the shame of her mind, quietly, he didn't have to know. Perhaps it was just the excitement of the moment. She couldn't do that, just in case it was true and for being honest her "I love you" would break into pieces the sweetness of their acts. She didn't want to lose him; even less for a couple of words which meaning remained as vague as her own persona.

"So many things have changed, lately."

_Here we are. _She put down her spoon on the table and smiled forcefully at Will. Why was she always seen as a meaning to reach something, just a bridge between two seas? She raised her eyebrows in a silent motion of agreement but let him go on. She didn't feel like speaking.

"I had a conversation with Grace a couple of days ago."

He was playing nervously with his glass of wine, avoiding her gaze in his effort as if he already knew that he was going wrong with her, abusing her time and her life but he nonetheless tried. He couldn't stop now.

"She loves Leo and I'm not required anymore."

"Oh Will, don't say that."

She grabbed his hand and pressed it tightly, looking for his brown eyes and then with a warm smile, his heart smile. He shook his head.

"It's normal and logical. She has new perspectives now and I'm out of the game for some of them; the most important ones though, the kind of decisions that changes a whole life."

"What are you talking about, honey?"

"We had planned everything together, all my dreams. But now she had found the right guy, my life was falling down, like my hopes. For a moment I thought I had lamentably failed all along but then you talked about the fish with two eyes on the same side and how you would be the one to remain behind. Do you remember it?"

"Yes, I do."

However she wasn't sure where he was heading to and a slight panic invaded her voice.

"I thought I had lost my chance for being so lonely, like you. But it hit me this morning, the perfect solution so that we may go forward and finally see straight. It's logical like some mathematic theorem. If we're both left aside then the best way to fight against failure is to become one."

Her heart began to pound loudly in her chest as she felt her blood leave her veins; and she was pale, livid, shaking. He couldn't be proposing to her, could he? She opened her mouth to reply but Will shook his head. He hadn't finished yet.

"Maybe Grace finding Leo is a sign that we were heading to the wrong path but when I think about you I have this certainty that rocks my mind. It seems obvious; I even wonder why I didn't think about it earlier. But I guess it's time now and I'm telling you tonight. Karen, I want you to be the mother of my child."

Her gasp stayed suspended in the air as her astonished and frozen features vanished in an unexpected but complete darkness. The lights turned off all of a sudden and the soft brouhaha of the restaurant ceased in a wave of surprise as the buildings of Manhattan began to mourn their glimmering charms to become the frightening ghosts of dark souls.

"Ladies and gentlemen…"

A voice on her right made her turn her head but she wouldn't have been able to see her own hand if she had actually wanted to. It was all about guessing, a disturbing blindness taking power over her senses.

"New York is suffering from a general blackout."


	18. The weight of the night

**The weight of the night**

His hand appeared all of a sudden on the table as the heat of the candle flame caressed her face in an uncomfortable silence. None of them had moved and even less spoken in the furtive time that had followed his request. They had plunged absent-mindedly in the dark without really complaining, lost in their minds; almost unaware of the blackout. A pale smile lit up her features as the waiter went away but she consciously avoided Will's gaze, looking for an escape to the strange sensation of death that had invaded her soul. She finally stood up and murmured in the quietness of the restaurant.

"This is on me."

Her eyes focalized on the candle they had been given to leave the place when they stepped out of the River Café a couple of minutes later.

"I'm afraid you won't find a cab because of the blackout. The traffic is paralyzed in Manhattan so I recommend you to take The Brooklyn Bridge and maybe somewhere Lower Midtown you will find one. Here are your candles; have a nice evening."

They had looked in disbelief at the receptionist while he had tended them two large white candles before coming back to his work, leaving them disarmed in the street. Staring at the dark asphalt they went away in silence under the pale lights of their candles like a couple of ghosts coming back on earth to ease their pain through some spiritual mission. It seemed that New York had lost its voice, the warmness of its soul, and was now mourning in a long and slow procession of flames in a bright path that looked so alive. People were wandering quietly through the streets, crossing the avenues under unsteady steps, looking all around them as if the world had stopped turning an hour earlier. There wasn't any chaos but the simple taste of unusual events when you didn't know how to face such a change and felt dumb, useless.

The first buildings of Manhattan were emerging into the dark when Karen stopped all of a sudden on the Brooklyn Bridge, sighing heavily.

"I can't do it, Will. I'm sorry."

She had just signed the end of everything and she knew it; a silent pain running through her veins and oppressing her heart until she lacked breath. She looked aside and shook her head.

"Why…"

"Oh come on, Will! This is just completely crazy."

The attorney had stopped too and they were now facing each other with the despair of their hearts invading their features under the pale light of the candles; the moon shining behind.

"I'm a lot more intimate with you than I will ever be with Grace, Karen. Damn, we've been sleeping together for several years; your husband is dead now so technically it's not a love affair anymore. I don't understand... Where's the problem?"

"What kind of family are you willing to give to your child? You might have extreme liberal ideas about it and introducing me to your son or your daughter as the woman you fuck from time to time and who is also at some point his or her mother but it's not what I'm looking for. I'm sorry."

They came out without warning, troubling her gaze with strength and the violence of some old injuries she had tried to forget; in vain. The tears were running on her cheeks now, taken away by the fury of the words spinning around in her head.

"Look at my own childhood, Will. It's been the worst thing ever for me; I'm still carrying the weight of those years. So I'm not about to give into it again and impose to my child the way I suffered. I can't do that."

He smiled a bit uncomfortably before the truth of her statement but something pushed him to go on; the conviction he was right and he just had to prove it to the dark-haired woman. Because if she refused, there was no reason to stay alive; he would have lost any hope, any interest in life.

"But you could move in and have your own room. A lot of children live with divorced parents; it would be like that somehow but without the nightmare of a court and all the custody things. I know we can do it, Kare. Don't do that to me."

"Will, have you lost your mind? Besides…"

She looked down and passed her tongue over her lips, swallowing back her sobs; trying to ignore his ones. She raised her eyebrows in a motion of resignation.

"I'm not twenty-five anymore."

She hated the passing of time; this incapacity of human beings to control it and get over its sequels. She was getting older, people were dying. That was the scheme but she couldn't accept it. Will smiled and caressed her cheek slowly; his gesture only emphasizing the fears of her heart.

"You're not that old either. How old are you?"

The millionaire pouted for a couple of seconds, twisting her hands nervously. If only the lights of the city could have come back at this exact moment. They would have another conversation going on; something else to focalize on.

"I might be about to turn thirty-eight… And keep that to yourself or believe me, you can definitely say good-bye to your reproductive system."

"Then your age isn't a problem. You're on the pill so I assume you can, biologically, have babies, can't you? Do you have any problems?"

"No, not that I know of; I'm okay except the fact that you're going to work hard to find blood among alcohol in my veins... And... No, I'm sorry but I can't, Will. I don't want to ruin everything."

But as she locked her eyes with his, Karen understood that it was too late and they had broken into pieces. They started walking again under the silence of their dying hearts; something they had left behind while stopping in the middle of a bridge at one in the morning. They found a taxi on East Houston Street and watched, amazed, how the darkness had taken possession of New York. The Big Apple seemed to be in the coma and they kept on living thanks to the strangeness of some invisible machine; just the basic movements of being alive. His fingers slid along the palm of her hand and she pressed them tight on the leather backseat; then closed her eyes, leaning against the cold window.

Her building finally appeared and as the driver stopped, she turned around and captured Will's lips in a bitter kiss; sensual but resigned. Her thumb passed on his cheek as they broke apart and she smiled with a note of sadness in her hazel eyes.

"I'll call you tomorrow."

She stepped out of the cab and looked at it go away; knowing that she would never find the warmness of his arms again.


	19. I kissed a girl

**I kissed a girl**

So it had to come to an end like that, just through a couple of words; a disturbing request that had frozen her coward heart and she had left then, silent before her incapacity to make a step forward into her life. They had started their casual encounters without any particular reason apart from maybe an invisible desire to break down a well too known routine. She had always understood that the bases were fragile if not completely inexistent but she had hoped somehow that it would last; and no matter it would remain in the dark, some furtive hours shared in the quietness of the Lowell because she was fine by then, in his arms.

"Wake up!"

She jumped and looked at Grace, smiling shyly for not having listened to a single word of what her friend had just said. The interior designer shook her head and rolled her eyes, obviously desperate.

"What are you dreaming about these days, Karen? You're constantly off. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I am. Don't be worried."

Grace nodded politely before dropping her pencil on the table. She approached the millionaire's desk, her fingers tracing invisible patterns over it.

"Do you have any plans for tonight, Karen? I was thinking that perhaps you could come to my home and we would speak over a bottle of wine or something. Leo isn't here and Will told me that he would spend the evening with Jack at some bar. I kind of miss our little night talks, you know."

A smile lit up her features and made her eyes sparkle before her friend's confession. She could have pretended and played all along the indifference card but she didn't feel like it; she had lost the energy for that unless she had just got tired of such behavior. She nodded brightly and tried to stop thinking about Will.

"I think I'm going to move in with Leo; and try to have a baby."

As much as she wasn't surprised, it took her aback and her heart seemed to stop beating for a few seconds; her fears to go on and change her day-to-day life growing in silence in her head. She leaned against the couch, sat down on the floor of the flat and managed a smile.

"That's great. I'm really happy for you, honey."

"Of course you will be the godmother! And maybe we will both get pregnant at the same time…"

She frowned, swallowing back a confused laughed; then shook her head in disbelief.

"What's happening that everyone is picturing me pregnant?"

"Why, is it a problem?"

"No, it's just that I wonder how you can do that when I'm completely unable to imagine such a thing. And you're not the only one: Jack, you and…"

The end of her sentence got suspended in the air and she looked down, ashamed and embarrassed before her lack of attention. It didn't pass unnoticed of course and she felt Grace's smile as a sudden heat invaded her cheeks.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me, Karen?"

Something happened at this exact moment. She wouldn't have been able to explain it properly but a long sigh seemed to make her abdicate and she decided for once to be honest with her friend.

"Someone asked me to be the mother of his child."

A silence followed her shaking voice and she simply shrugged before Grace's confusion. She felt awkward, naked in her own truth; a life she had kept on ignoring through the years but that had finally caught her up.

"You would be a great mom, Karen. I'm sure you would. Who is he?"

"He was a very good friend of mine."

"Why do you speak in the past?"

She locked her eyes with Grace's and let a bitter smile rest on her lips before standing up and heading to the kitchen for another bottle of wine.

"I said "was" because I turned him down, honey."

"If he's your friend, you can't lose him like that. Look at Will and me."

She leaned on the counter and shook her head, frowning under a constant and silent pain.

"You have no idea how lucky you are, Grace. This kind of friendship is way too far from me. So it's just over now."

They let it go, taking away by the blurriness of alcohol and the need to forget all the rest; just for a couple of hours. The evening went on and they were dancing crazily on Jill Sobule's song, walking over the couch, arms in the air and their voices covering the artist's one when Jack and Will came in. She smiled brightly at the actor, wincing over Grace's shoulder but vaguely froze when she saw the attorney; her smile vanishing into a shy attempt of sweetness and silent apologies.  
She jumped under the sudden kiss that the interior designer planted on her lips, coming back to reality as if seeing Will had stopped the world and stifled its sounds; wrapped up in a blanket of ice that her friend's touch had broken into pieces, following the lyrics of the song. She started singing again but her voice had lost its brightness unless it was time for her furtive happiness to leave and it was over now; no matter what she would do, her efforts would be vain and she would feel this latent pain again, on her heart.

_Kissin a girl won't change the world _  
_But I'm so glad I kissed a girl_

She looked back at Grace and smiled but finally sat down, grabbing her glass of wine. Jack rested his head on her lap and frowned, locking his eyes with hers.

"How come you are so big on lesbianism when you are with Grace, Kare?"

She passed her fingers through his hair and looked at Will and Grace talking in the kitchen; the way he was pressing her hand. He used to do the same when she turned around to kiss him good-bye at the Lowell. He caressed her cheek before his palm sliding along hers as if he was trying to say that they shouldn't leave that place, not yet; never. She had hoped so many times to hear his words but they hadn't come out, vanishing in her fantasies like an old dream of hers.

"We're just having fun, Jack."

"Besides your heart is already taken."

She choked on her glass and looked down at her friend, confused and panicked.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on, Karen; I may act stupid but you know that it's all about appearances."

He turned his head on his side and yawned; then closed his eyes, murmuring.

"I just wonder who he is."


	20. A spring break in Panama Beach

**A spring break in Panama Beach**

The fall vanished in a whirl of snow and even though they left The Lowell suite behind, something remained. A soft tenderness evolving with the passing of time from their hands brushing each other's to the sweetness of long kisses, no matter it was in public. People would never take it for something else than an innocent motion of friendship. Karen surprised herself multiplying them, enjoying the warmness of his arms in the evening while discussing some subject with Jack and Grace. They had renounced to a more primary relationship to find an unexpected substitution into their platonic attention they used to cherish a lot; and it was enough as a matter of fact for not saying better, purer.

Her timid sentiments blinded her through the happiness of their sincere acts, so far from the lies and the decadence of the past years. That's why she didn't foresee it at all and underestimated the imminent crash. It happened in March while everything seemed so perfect. Like a curse that would remind us of being careful and a bit more hopeless, Leo's affair hit them with violence; painfully. She spent a lot of time with Grace, trying to back her up before what she had always known would happen one day, inevitably. They were sharing a bottle of wine when Jack and Will came in the living room and sat down next to them, hiding with difficulty the lightness of their features.

"Grace, I have a meeting next week in Panama Beach."

The red-haired woman made a face before the attorney's statement; then shook her head.

"And so what, Will?"

"Jack and I were thinking that it could be great if the four of us went there for a few days."

Blinking in disbelief in front of the perspective of going to Florida before her sixtieth birthday, the interior designer rolled her eyes.

"Just because I'm Jewish doesn't mean that I have a thing for Florida and its cheap meals."

"It will be Spring break, you dude!"

Karen gasped and began to clap excitedly.

"Oh my God, I want to go there. Imagine that, Gracie… You and like thousands of students; young men looking for experienced women while alcohol gets the monopoly over water. That's perfect to make Leo jealous."

Weighing the idea in her head for a few seconds, the interior designer finally nodded and stood up.

"Then make it so that the jerk can see me on MTV."

She had never attended any Spring breaks; probably because she had never gone to college, just some private school to learn about History of Arts when she had got married for the first time.

And now she was there, she could swear on her own grave that she had never seen something so crazy; a pure life of debauchery, a permanent party of intertwined bodies and alcoholic minds. Sipping her martini in the middle of The Boardwalk Beach Resort, laid down in a black bikini, her body resting on a plastic deckchair that floated on the surface of the giant swimming pool of the night club, Karen looked at Grace down in the water and winced behind her sunglasses.

"So isn't it Heaven, honey? All these guys just for you and me…"

Some girls worked hard in the darkness to reach the glory of fame after hours and hours of silent work while others got it without the slightest effort; pushed by the natural charms of their smiles and the power of their presence. The millionaire belonged to the second category. As soon as she entered a room, every single pair of eyes got fascinated by her peculiar aura and very soon she became the center of attention; spring of jealousies and wild fantasies. She might have been older than everyone in Panama Beach but after a few hours in Florida, Karen's reputation had already reached the status of a Queen. Joking around with students from Iowa, her hazel eyes concentrated on Will who was coming slowly towards her; swimming.

Enjoying at last the weather of the area after a full day of work, the attorney splashed her a little, leaving drops of water tracing circles over her stomach; she shuddered.

"Damn, Will! Watch out."

"Sorry, Elphaba. I didn't mean to hurt you with water."

They had been teasing a lot since they had arrived there; as if the sudden distance with New York had erased some barriers and they were heading back to a carnal desire. She bit her lower lip and sighed, letting the heat of the sun rock her body peacefully. She just should be careful of the way the events were turning with Will. She didn't want to ruin everything.

All she could have said is that the door got slammed and she found herself laughing loud for some mysterious reason; the room spinning around bewitchingly as a moan escaped from her lips. The place was quiet and it contrasted a lot with the boiling nightlife of the area.

She frowned before the sudden light of the sun caressing her eyes with strength, waking her up. Yawning, the dark-haired woman turned around in bed and bumped into someone. Still half-asleep, she simply settled into the person's arms and smiled as she heard a moan of delight against her hair. She loved tender mornings; it contrasted so much with the sharpness of the rest of the day, the way she had to behave according to strict rules of some old conventional scheme. It took her several minutes to realize that the situation wasn't supposed to sound familiar and while opening her eyes, a violent pain invaded her brain. Leaning on her elbow, she winced at his body before biting her lip under her headache. How come she had really managed to drink too much? Spring breaks were really a place for challenges.

"Honey, wake up!"

She concentrated her efforts on sitting up, breathing loudly as a wave of nausea and regret passed by her heart.

"Will, what the hell are you doing? Why are we naked?"

Obviously the attorney's lack of answer comforted her in the fact that she wasn't the only one to suffer from a hangover. He rubbed his eyes with a lazy hand before letting his fingers caress her spine softly. She shivered instantly but the coldness of the situation resulted enough to put an end to any bold fantasy.

"Oh God… What have we done?"

"It's okay, Karen. I mean it's not as if it were the first time, you know."

Putting on her sunglasses that had magically remained on her head the whole night, the millionaire looked aside at her friend and even though her eyes were hidden by the dark item, her frozen features gave a clear explanation to the kind of look she was giving him.

"It's the first time though that I don't remember getting laid with someone! That's no good at all. I need my morning kiss."

She leaned over and captured his lips softly, still taken away by her own frustrated anger; then stood up and disappeared in the bathroom. Some people couldn't do anything without a previous coffee or a shower. Karen simply needed a kiss in the first hours of the morning so that her day started on the right bases. Looking at her amusingly, Will didn't say a word when she came back almost immediately and settled back in bed, wearing a bathrobe. She cuddled against him and yawned.

"I need some more hours of sleep. Wake me up at noon, honey."

Smiling before her capacity to forget her sudden anxieties for a sentiment of fatigue, he closed his eyes and kissed her temple with care; then went back to sleep.


	21. Like the leaves spinning around

**Like the leaves spinning around**

She passed a finger over her lips and closed her eyes, leaning against the window of the office. They had come back to New York the day before and the bright sun of Florida had been substituted by the pale shades of the rain falling over the city. Spring was different by there, still halfway between the iciness of the winter and the glory awful days of the summer. She took advantage of Grace's meeting with a client downtown to have a rest and allow herself to enjoy the quietness of the room in the middle of the day. She was tired and a bit confused because of the last events.

They had made love again. Just when she had managed to convince herself that their platonic relationship was way more interesting than a love affair, they had succumbed to a carnal temptation; twice. A moan of frustration escaped from her lips and she frowned, deepening her graceful features. As much as she could accuse the alcohol for the night, her fresh mind was the only one to blame for the second time when she had woken up in his arms and one thing leading to another one, she had dropped it all out for him; and she had realized how she had missed his thrusts, the way he used to kiss her ear and brush the fine skin of her thighs. She hadn't forgotten anything, on the contrary; while shivering against him in Panama Beach, Karen had realized that there might be something more about Will.

Her hand came to cover her mouth as an unexpected yawn made its way out but her hazel eyes remained concentrated on the New York Times as her determination seemed to fight against an evident boredom. Jack was sat on the armchair next to her, humming along with the tunes so quietly that a part of her brain was focalized on this unusual behavior, wondering if the actor was fine or actually worried. Will and Grace burst into the living room and she vaguely looked up at them. They were arguing over the degree of cuteness that seemed to emanate from the bartender of a new coffee store on Madison Avenue. Her eyes caught his gaze for a few seconds but she didn't insist and went back to her own work. They hadn't spoken about Florida, barely had some time for the two of them. Perhaps it was cowardice though she had seen it as the sign she shouldn't try to get too many hopes over the attorney.

As she lost the battle, Grace sat down next to Karen on the couch and, fidgeting her hair, she poked her head over the newspapers that the millionaire was holding. Still full of adrenalin, the red-haired woman shrieked and grabbed the publication off of her friend's hands.

"Oh my God, Karen… You want to move out?"

While she had concentrated all her efforts into the perfection of an incredible quietness, Karen found herself very quickly surrounded by three pairs of eyes waiting avidly for an answer to such a scoop. Will left the kitchen and a glass of wine in hand; he looked at her in disbelief.

"Are you putting the manse on sale?"

For a few seconds she thought about lying and pretending that she was just getting informed. But she finally shrugged and sighed heavily before nodding. She had always had the sense of responsibilities for some mysterious reason and so the taste of assuming her acts had become addicting through the years. She didn't like using a couple of lies, even from time to time. It didn't sound right. However her courage was a lot more timid than her decisions. She confessed and made the big change official but only staring at the floor intensively; just to escape from her friends' gazes. She was bad at guessing people's reactions apart from her own ones. Clearing her voice nervously, she looked for strength in her twisted hands; her mouth was dry.

"I'm tired of the penthouse. It's too big, too empty. Besides it reminds me way too much of Stanley and I should move forward, shouldn't I? He's not here anymore and he will never come back so I guess it's time for me to turn a page and see what happens next."

She had sounded logical and true; honest in her semi-lies. As if she had ever cared about Stanley in such a sentimental way as the one she had just described. The silence that followed her explanation comforted her smartness though. She had been right and her friends had nothing to reply, nothing to add or argue about. In the worst of the cases, they could have even felt guilty for not having been able to guess her needs before; they would have been selfish, too much self-centered and so they would have forgotten that she was actually mourning her husband. Biting her lower lip, Karen pushed this culprit idea as far as she could and simply smiled at them, waiting for the next move, the first reaction.

Will let himself slide on the couch until he placed his body against hers, looking with attention at the circled ads. She hid a smile. The attorney was always the first one to impose seriousness and a responsible behavior when it was needed. He had this sort of aura that no matter what he said, you couldn't but believe him and rely on his words. He wasn't a man who seemed to be able to disappoint someone when the situation required a well-tempered decision.

"What are you looking for exactly? As long as I know and according to your own prospect, you're thinking about The Upper West Side, aren't you?"

"I want a very small flat."

_And so love will never vanish at the corner of a corridor, lost in the immensity of materialistic ideas. _Jack scoffed, his mouth wide opened.

"Where are you going to put all your liquor storage in a two-bedroom flat, Karen?"

A bright smile lit up her eyes and while looking dreamingly at the coffee table in front of her, the dark-haired woman shrugged; hopeful.

"I'm heading for a big change, honey. A couple of bottles in the fridge should be able to satisfy me."

And then it became all clear; how it was the only solution to make the peace with her troubled mind, her confused heart. Her past was too blurry to get attached to it and draw a future according to its own lines. So like the leaves that twirl around in a fall sky, she had to let the wind lead her to a new life. Then it would just be the beginning; another one.


	22. Life for dummies

**Life for dummies**

"Happy birthday to you… Happy birthday to you… Happy birthday to you, Karen… Happy birthday to you…"

The heat of the candles a few inches away from her face warmed up her heart and she smiled peacefully at her friends, with honesty and a rare ounce of simplicity in her gesture. She felt fine with them. Perhaps the fact she was finally turning thirty-eight burnt a small part of her mind, hurting her self-confidence before the passing of time but she had at least chosen the best way to overcome the idea. For the very first time she had renounced to any big party and was only surrounded by her closest friends; Jack, Grace and Will. She wanted a small life all of a sudden, something still bright but a bit more consistent and logical like this home-made cake that the attorney had brought. Nobody would ever compare it to the most talented pastry chef's one but still, the taste of its delicate attention would always end up winning over the rest.

They took off the candles and a bunch of presents emerged in front of her within a second, making her jump under the unexpected move so perfectly in time. Putting all of them down on the coffee table, her hand picked up one and unwrapped it with excitement. When she was six, she had observed how adults didn't pay a lot of attention to the discovery hidden under a layer of colorful paper as if while getting older, they lost the spontaneity of the simplest things, the smallest details that tended to brighten a pale routine. From that day she had decided that she would stop growing up because she didn't want it to come to an end. It was too much fun to be forgotten. Of course she had failed and got older but she had also learned that it was up to her to keep alive the joyful sensation of presents. Jack moved nervously on the floor, giggling like a little boy.

"This is mine though it's Will's idea. So don't kill me, okay?"

She looked up at him and frowned before nodding slowly, confused; until her hands held a black and yellow book. She stared at the cover in disbelief.

"You bought me the last edition of _Housekeeping for dummies_?"

The actor grinned, trying deliberately to ignore her semi-offended expression just to persuade himself that he had been amazing.

"You just moved in a new flat, Karen; without any maid so maybe you will find some interesting chapters in this survival guide!"

The worst of all was that Jack wasn't that wrong at the end. She had settled her choice over a two-bedroom flat in The Upper West Side a week earlier and had moved in the day before. Cardboard boxes were currently serving as an interesting modern art composition of decoration from where seemed to emerge from time to time a piece of clothing, an old black and white picture, some fashion magazine. Apart from basic furniture like a mattress on the hardwood floor, a couple of chairs around a table, a couch with matching armchair, the rooms were still pretty empty if not for Karen's natural inclination for some methodical mess; her personal items littering every corner of the small flat.

She had visited a dozen of luxurious buildings with a complete disinterest before all the offered services. This _à la carte _style of life was exactly what she was trying to escape from for having experienced it for so many years now and perhaps it was the reason why she had fallen in love at first sight with this one; the less provocative. Located on the second floor of a brownstone, there wasn't any elevator or a janitor. It looked a lot like a common and ordinary flat with its white walls and wooden floor, freshly renovated. She had been looking for simplicity among a minimum of day-to-day comfort and the two-bedroom habitation seemed to have reunited all the required elements so that the millionaire signed and got the keys.

She hugged Jack and grabbed another present, from Grace. It was a digital camera, a very small one.

"It's for the photo album of your new life or the continuation of this one… Well, you know what I mean. Your walls are yelling for photographs."

Will's present was the biggest one and also the most intriguing. Its square form reminded the dark-haired woman of an old manuscript produced by copyist monks in the Middle Age but when her hands made contact with it, she felt the firmness of a wooden frame and the tension of the canvas, clutched to the edges of a peculiar embrace. The paper slid noisily along the painting as a melancholic smile lip up her face when she made eye-contact with the piece of art.

A couple of weeks after the beginning of their love affair, Will and Karen had attended the launch of some new art gallery in Chelsea. Stanley was gone for some business trip and as she hated finding herself alone for any social event, she had asked the attorney to come along. He had accepted; perhaps hoping for a more intimate evening then but still, at least she would have someone to smile at brightly. None of them really knew the artist and even less his work, classic but with the softness of pale colors embracing the gaze of the observer as soon as you stopped in front of a canvas to contemplate the touches left by the paintbrush. Will had left her for a minute or so, just to come back with a glass of champagne then, when her eyes had been fascinated by it and she had stayed still in front of it; breathless. She had seen so many paintings in her life and appreciated the delicacy of their authors but none of them had touched her so much, for some mysterious reason because it was so simple, so pure; just a woman caressing the lips of another one, their eyes closed, the darkness of their clothes contrasting with the paleness of their complexion. It was all about care, love and peace. Nothing else seemed to emanate from it apart from this sentiment of quietness and harmony. She had never forgotten it.

"Is it a famous canvas?"

Karen looked at Grace and nodded, coming back slowly to reality after the strength of the reminiscence of these old days, the souvenir of a couple of emotions that would never go away.

"It's a painting by Kahlil Gibran, a Lebanon-American artist. It's titled The Murmur of Silence…"

Perhaps the sound of the words said out loud reached a different meaning or simply took all the essence of their truth and she looked at Will, not knowing what to do. They had based so many things over the concept of silence until now, the constancy of its weight and the determination of its lies. They had learned to accept it and perhaps the softness of its shapes, the murmur of its winds, had finally bewitched their souls through an irreversible logic.

"Thank you very much for it, honey."

She hugged him tight and closed her eyes; thinking about the springs of hidden messages.


	23. The warmness of his gaze

**The warmness of his gaze**

Karen Walker had always had a life methodically ruled by a series of automatisms belonging to a reassuring routine. She never had breakfast before having taken a shower and spent five religious minutes in bed every morning staring at the ceiling of the bedroom to come back to reality and let her dreams fade away in a soft motion of freedom. From the perfect amount of pills to the right dose of vodka in her first martini of the day, the millionaire gave a quiet importance to all those details that accompanied her throughout the years, no matter it was raining or her heart was eventually crying; at least she knew that if all the rest came to fall down to pieces, she would still have this routine to keep on breathing.

She turned on her side and looked at the painting resting against the wall on the hardwood floor. The sun was passing through the windows, lighting up the marble of the fireplace and the whiteness of the room, getting lost in the leaves of some green plant she had bought the day before at the market. It was eight o'clock and like every morning, her eyes embraced in a subtle wish the main lines of the canvas as her mind was setting off its waltz of warm secrets, thinking about nothing but Will. He had invaded her thoughts, imposed himself in her day-to-day fantasies and after hours of indecision, The Murmur of Silence had finally settled down next to her bed for being a part of her intimacy and one of the first things she wanted to see in the morning.

Stepping out of the shower in a hurry, she retrieved for her clothes and within a second the door got slammed behind her; a mug of tea abandoned on the floor, a forgotten umbrella resting on the couch while the rain was heavily pouring down that morning. It could have been surprising for most of the people but she actually loved all of this, the complete mess that was actually extremely studied and this sensation of warmness over her heart as if she was at the right place, at last. Apart from a bunch of wooden shelves in the living room and wicker baskets littering the floor of her bedroom, the decoration was far from being achieved; or at least you thought so until a veil of charms spread over your mind. The mess looked like her and owned a peculiar aura where confusion got lost in a feminine touch of elegance. It was unique and what you would have never accepted from others suddenly turned out amazing with her. Her soul had been combined with the spirit of the flat and the fusion of both characters resulted delightful, fresh and unexpected.

"My assistant will be perfect for the job, aren't you Karen?"

The dark-haired woman jumped at the sound of her name and looked at Grace with a fake innocence, a silly smile emphasizing the fact she had definitely not listened to a single word. She stood up slowly and took a deep breath, heading straight to the coffee machine when the interior designer stopped her.

"Karen, we weren't talking about coffee but babies. Mrs Westlake and I need to go to Brooklyn for a couple of hours so as it's not a place for children, it would be perfect if you could look after her new-born daughter."

Completely ignoring the presence of Grace's client, the millionaire looked at her friend in disbelief, waiting desperately for the moment the red-haired woman would burst out laughing and the joke would be over because mentioning "new-born" and "looking after" in the same sentence while talking to her was far from belonging to any sort of reality. She narrowed her hazel eyes, pleading in silence to Grace, but the despair in her friend's gaze was way deeper than hers and trying at the most to hide her fears, she finally nodded in silence.

The first thing she noticed was the weight. Adjusting the baby carriage on her shoulders, she smiled awkwardly at their client and put a shaking hand over the little girl's head.

"What if she cries? I don't have milk."

"Oh don't be worried, she's a doll. We will be back very soon."

Grace nodded and grabbed her raincoat, vaguely looking at the bad weather outside.

"Though it's almost 7pm Karen so we will get Charlotte at your place, okay? You can go back home now."

They vanished from the office as an immense emptiness invaded her heart. She turned on her heels and stared blankly at the office, the baby's hands balancing from right to left in the rhythm of her own movements. She turned the lights off and left, not daring to make the slightest contact with the new-born just in case she actually woke her up and set off a wave of high-pitched cries.

She tipped the cab driver and reached the door of her flat almost happily. Charlotte was still sleeping and they hadn't met any one from her entourage who could have started one of the most unexpected scoop of the year: Karen Walker babysitting. Everything was going well so far and perhaps her self-confidence would be the one to blame in the secure step she gave to enter her living room; unless it was more about the mess and the issue of Vogue resting on the floor. Her Chanel high heels landed on the magazine with all the weight of her body and the inevitable happened. She slid along the cover and couldn't help but fall down, the baby carriage breaking the fall. Swearing between her teeth, it took her a couple of seconds before realizing that she was leaning over the baby who wasn't moving and even less crying.

"Oh my God…"

She thought about staying still until death took her away and she would die, vaguely relieved for not having needed to face people's reproaching gazes on her irresponsible behavior but apparently she was healthy and far from an imminent heart attack; unfortunately. Closing her eyes and praying out loud, she sat up on her knees and took a deep breath before looking down at the damages she had caused on Grace's client's baby.

"Okay we have two feet, two legs, two arms…"

She was touching Charlotte's body while evaluating the situation, going up slowly from toes to head, lost in a furious study of every single detail that wouldn't sound normal to her eyes.

"Well you seem to be fine, honey. Then why aren't you crying…"

This is when she noticed the hole and the reason of Charlotte's scaring silence.

"Oh fucking hell fire!"

Her eyes widened before the atrocity of the fact and a shaking hand came to cover her mouth in order to stifle her panicked cries. She was still holding against her chest the baby's body, intact; but the head was missing.

For some reason Karen looked down on aside, wondering how it could be to spend the rest of her life in jail when she noticed the head against the couch. Still on her knees she rushed to it and grabbed it; then tried to put it down on the rest of the body.

"Damn what am I doing?"

Feeling panic spreading all over her, the dark-haired woman closed her eyes and started doing yoga exercises to stop hyperventilating. Something hit her mind all of a sudden and after a few seconds of doubt, she stared at the head she was still holding and realized there was no bleeding. Very slowly she took off the baby carriage and released Charlotte from it, looking at her for the very first time.

"What is that stuff?"

Instead of veins, blood and arteries, the baby's body was simply stuffed by cotton. Putting the head down on the floor, Karen observed it for a long moment and realized that she was actually facing the most human looking doll she had ever seen. A sigh of relief escaped from the depths of her heart until another sort of panic invaded her mind; baby or doll, she still had damaged their client's belongings. Standing up, she went for the book that Jack had offered her for her birthday, _Housekeeping for dummies_, to check the sewing chapter. Her mouth was dry and her fingers shaking along the pages. She leafed through it with the anxious despair of tragedies and frowned while realizing that there was nothing about this kind of situation. Throwing away the book on her couch, she grabbed her cell phone and dialled a number, crossing her fingers to get someone on the other end of the line.

"What's happening, Karen?"

"Oh my God, Will I need you."

Her voice was shaking and she was one more time on the edge of bursting into tears. She felt the attorney get tense, wondering why she was in such state.

"Karen, are you okay?"

"I have a sewing issue…"

"Are you calling me to take care of your clothes? I can't believe that! I'm not your maid. Damn, check on the web, Karen. I have a meeting within five minutes and…"

"I already checked and there's absolutely nothing about how to sew a baby's head back on a body!"

She heard him gasp as a silence took her away from him until his voice came back to her ear.

"Don't move. I'm on my way."

Will rushed in twenty-minutes later, dropping his briefcase on the floor; then looked at Karen in disbelief as he found the millionaire sipping a martini quietly. He put his hands on her shoulders and observed her chest.

"Is it the top you were wearing when it happened?"

"Yes, it is; why?"

She didn't have time to get into further questions and scoffed as Will took it off immediately, leaving her with only a black bra on.

"We don't have to leave any kind of evidence. Now go to have a shower. I'm packing your things and you're going to take the first flight to Buenos Aires. I will meet you there at the end of the week. Now where's the body?"

Will turned around and saw the head on the coffee table, resting proudly over a pile of magazines.

"Oh my God, Karen what have you done?"

"It's okay, honey. Don't panic. The baby is a doll."

A horrified expression stopped on the attorney's face and he looked, scared, at his friend.

"How can you say that? You just killed a new-born and you dare to say it's a doll?"

Rolling her eyes, the dark-haired woman shook her head before grabbing Charlotte's head.

"I mean it's a real doll like a fucking toy. It looks like a baby, I know; but it's a doll."

A smile lit up Will's features as he took the head in his hands and shrieked, obviously excited.

"Oh my God, you have a reborn! I was so looking forward to seeing one…"

Karen made a face, confused before her friend's sudden lack of masculinity but didn't say a word as the attorney was already working on putting back the head with the rest of the body.

"And we're done!"

She smiled shyly at Will as he put down the repaired doll on his lap with a satisfied expression on his face; he looked so proud. Karen had stayed quiet all along, observing his delicate hands taking care of Charlotte, her heart reassured and rocked by his words as he had explained her about the singular reborn dolls. And now it was over. She had stayed against him, nourishing her fantasies with the heat of his leg against her foot and the unique complicity that made her melt in silence.  
Very carefully and holding the head just in case, she stared at the doll, still vaguely wondering what kind of woman could find the right substitution into it. It looked like a baby, it smelled like a baby but it never opened its eyes, never cried, never smiled at you and so fed your heart with the uniqueness of a new-born gaze over you. It wasn't alive and would never be. It couldn't replace a baby. Raising her eyebrows, she looked aside at Will and smirked; Charlotte resting against her arm.

"Do you understand now why I shouldn't have a child? Leave me two hours with one and I get its head chopped off."

She surprised herself with such confession. They hadn't talked about Will's request since the blackout; since they had turned a page over their story. And she would have never thought that she would laugh at it while mentioning it for the first time. Humour didn't seem to have a place into the sadness of their world but it did and after a couple of seconds, they burst out laughing; apologizing in silence for their divergence, not that it would change everything and they would get back to their secret affair but still, they needed this complicity. The attorney caressed the plastic cheek and smiled, passing a hand around Karen's shoulders before kissing her head.

"Things are back to normal though. We're a great team. We will always be."


	24. It's you

**It's you**

Andrew Banks was nice, good-looking, smart and with some financial predispositions that couldn't leave any woman insensitive or completely disinterested. When he smiled his green eyes seemed to sparkle like little emeralds over a satin nightgown, softening his masculine features in a reassuring motion. His voice was calm and his laugh irresistible; the natural elegance of his gestures giving birth to the shapes of a singular charm that you couldn't help but love. He didn't smoke, barely drank and whatever you dared to suggest, he listened to you with a deep and sincere interest. In a word, he was the perfect man; the subtle fusion of politeness and this ounce of craziness required before the monotony of existence. So many women in his entourage were waiting for the slightest move from him to make a step forward into a more serious relationship but the irony of fate made him look at Karen.

She met him on a Wednesday morning at the office. She was running late and had abandoned her cab, stuck in traffic, three blocks up while the rain was pouring. Not even looking up at Grace, she had sighed heavily and got rid of her raincoat before shaking her hair, the image of her umbrella forgotten on the counter top of her kitchen causing some swearing between her teeth. The rest had been classic; a gaze, a phone number, a date and without really knowing how, the dark-haired woman had found herself kissing him, lost in confusion.

When the afternoon was calm at the office, she used to close her eyes for a couple of minutes and wonder why; why they had never talked about Panama Beach, why they were holding hands as soon as a few inches separated them, why nothing else had ever happened, why she had turned him down at The River Café, why they had put an end to their affair. Her heart was divided between the urge to speak to Will and the cowardice of the eventual sequels to such an act as if the words could break the last connection between the two of them, into pieces and so their confusing behavior was still better than nothing.  
She always knew it wouldn't work. As much as Andrew was attentive and sweet, her feelings had been clear since the very beginning. There was nothing, no sparkle, no hope. She didn't feel alive in his arms, barely touched by his smiles and delicate attentions; all the presents he gave her. She didn't even try to fool herself because it would have been in vain. He wasn't Will and would never be. But aware of the fact that her relationship with the attorney would never come back to something less platonic, she had accepted Andrew in her life; after all it wasn't the first time that her sentiments had deserted the place and made a crash even before starting, the slightest ounce of dream with him.

Being single wasn't a problem to her and she would have gladly accepted the situation if Will hadn't started dating someone. Her heart had silently broke into pieces that day, when she had seen them; but it had also been the sign that life had to go on and as much as she might have loved to, their past would never catch them and it was over now. It sounded childish and ridiculous but her decision to settle down with Andrew was just a protective attempt of comfort before the pain of the truth and the fact she would never be happy without someone else than Will. The substitution she got only reflected the pale figure of her wishes, the ghost of her old fantasies.

The evening had been nice, pleasant. Her evident well-being while sharing some time with her friends always made her frown at the end, vaguely worried. They had come to this point when their closeness had turned into an impenetrable circle and their constant failures over their flings seemed to find their reasons into the intensity of their friendship. Perhaps it was too strong, too much; and if they didn't loosen the grip over their lives, they would end up alone, not lonely but alone, the four of them. It was dangerously tempting if not too late to go backwards and prevent them from reaching such an end.

Grace had gone to bed a couple of minutes ago and as she said good-bye to Jack, closing the door behind her, Karen turned on her heels and observed the flat plunged in the silence of the night. She grabbed a glass of wine and leaned on the doorframe of the terrace, staring at him quietly. He was sat on a deckchair, his eyes closed. She took a deep breath and felt how the air was sharp against her lungs; a strong pain tightening her throat. Her clothes seemed too tight all of a sudden, her shoes uncomfortable; unless it was just the situation, an odd sentiment of sadness.

"What's my favorite song?"

Will smiled before the well-known question and the series of replies it used to set off then. It had been so long since the last time they had played. Sitting up, his brown eyes looked evasively at the ground, capturing in a far angle the leather of her shoes.

"_Somewhere over the rainbow_; this is such a classic choice."

The attorney laughed, breaking at last the tension between the two of them, the bitterness of their acts. Raising her eyebrows, Karen shrugged.

"This is not a choice, honey. I don't choose to love or hate. It comes up by itself. What's my favorite novel?"

"You don't have one because you say that the words belong to no one."

A bright smile was lighting up her face, now. An old warmness that she had thought lost was coming back slowly to her heart and it sounded so good, so perfect. How come she had managed to live without it for so long?

"What do I like the most in the spring?"

"You have a thing for looking at the clouds and interpreting their shapes. I used to do it a lot in Columbia."

"It's a lovely getaway."

"It is."

"Whom do I miss the most?"

"It's your father."

She took off her heels, breaking the light exaltation that their game had started and she came closer to him, kneeling down to plunge her eyes with his. She had drunk a lot and the wine had gone to her head bewitchingly. She felt dizzy, cold, lost and melancholic. Her fingers caressed his cheek as she frowned and let a tear slide along her pale skin. Her heart was beating fast; her hands were shaking as his warm breath was reaching her lips in a transparent embrace.

"No; it's you, Will."

She couldn't have been able to explain why she had said that; why she had decided to give up the sweetness of some superficial questions to let her secrets appear, come out to the light of the moon and the silence of the stars. Perhaps it was just life. She closed her eyes and gasped in their kiss; then smiled in his mouth as she felt life reaching her soul and the profusion of her sentiments taking her away in a whirl of joy.


	25. The principles of a smile

**The principles of a smile**

It started by a prickling at the corner of her lips, running through her veins, taken away by her blood until the main arteries blew it over her heart and her body responded automatically by a bright smile. She used to shrug before such reaction, letting it go. She was just fine, happy and bitterly hopeful in spite of the evident dead-end situation. They were back together into what she still called their love affair with the exception that Stanley was dead so technically Will was her boyfriend, her secret acolyte even though she refused the idea. There was something scaring in this status, a degree of seriousness that wasn't implied in the superficiality of casual sex. Sure they did speak, share some conversations but mainly because of their friendship. She was so scared they might actually have crossed the lines, dreading the consequences it would bring over their lives. Besides, it may have sounded selfish but she liked the fact nobody knew of them; she felt closer to him.

She saw him every day, every night. As soon as they had a moment, he came over to her place and she nourished her soul with the heat of his arms. Something had evolved though, a sort of need she couldn't control. She didn't enjoy his presence but lived through it as if whenever he went away, her lungs got locked and she stopped breathing, painfully. She had thought that she lacked courage to make a step forward and touch his lips again but the strength of an odd sentiment had made her react. She had kissed him that night on the terrace; they had made love in silence under the excitement of their final reunion; finding again the sweetness of a gaze and the soft emotion set off by a caress. She had left in the first hours of the morning, huddled against his chest on the deckchair. The moon had begun to vanish, swallowed by the sun and the pale light of her dreams. She had felt so light while coming back home and having a shower. And when she had closed her eyes all she could picture had been the days they had stayed away from each other; the waste of time. She had turned the water off and swore to herself that she wouldn't let it happen twice.

She flashed him a bright smile as he stepped out of the bathroom and squatted down in front of the armchair she was sat on. She took a sip of tea and closed her eyes to enjoy at the most the touch of his fingers in her hair, a subtle morning caress. He had spent the whole night with her; a rare decision that always ended up comforting her a lot, like a maternal hug showing up without any warning, unexpectedly and lovingly.

"Do you want some tea or coffee?"

Her voice was still quite low, typical from her half-asleep state of mind. Her brain could barely make a distinction between the sweetness of her dreams and the tenderness of reality, punctuating her words with the sound of silence and the long hours of wonders she had spent with him. He smiled and nodded, touched by the offer.

"I wouldn't say no to some coffee before going to work."

Her hand slid along his cheek and she kissed his lips softly; then whispered.

"Good; I was dying for some more. Now you have a double reason to refill my mug."

She stood up and smirked at the attorney while her unexpected statement had simply left him astonished. Passing the door of her bedroom, the millionaire couldn't help but smile, biting her lower lip at the sound of his voice.

"You know, Karen, you're still far from being the perfect hostess."

The millionaire came back into the living room, wearing a sating red blouse; her skirt still somewhere on her bed. She passed her arms around his waist and made him turn around to face her. Her lips were soft against his, tempting and warm.

"This is not the kind of activity I'm used to be in charge of."

Her smile got lost in a sensual kiss.

"Karen you have five messages from Andrew. Do I really have to remind you that I'm not your assistant but you're supposed to be mine?"

Looking up at Grace, the dark-haired woman restrained a yawn of complete boredom before the reproaches she had just been given. Her hands slid on her desk and she let herself fall down on her chair, already lost in her thoughts. The interior designer frowned, obviously annoyed by her friend's sudden peaceful attitude, vaguely jealous before it.

"Karen if you came here to daydream then you can go back home immediately. We have a very busy schedule so if you can't handle that, then the door is open and good-bye."

She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes, vaguely looking at the pile of mail waiting for her on her desk.

"Get relaxed and have sex, Grace. Your abstinence is obviously getting on your nerves."

"Yeah, like I don't want a boyfriend too. How about Andrew by the way? We barely see him lately; for not saying at all… He left you five messages. What happened?"

Her hazel eyes got lost in the contemplation of a rose abandoned on the top of a pile of magazines. Dust had invaded the petals, burying the attention into the blurriness of some insignificant souvenir. She opened her mouth, ready to come up with a good excuse when she realized she didn't have one.

"Well I guess I just forgot him, Grace."

"How can you forget someone? He was your boyfriend."

Even the sound of the idea sounded ridiculous to her ears and she couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head to her friend.

"He was not. I never gave him the chance to. I never felt like…"

"What's wrong with you?"

"Absolutely nothing, honey; I just don't need him to be happy."

The red-haired woman looked at Karen in silence, abdicating before that last statement and the mysterious smile playing on the millionaire's lips. Something seemed to stop in her chest all of a sudden, a strong realization that had passed completely unnoticed until then; it got her blood icy, her hands shaking, her mouth dry. They hadn't signed any pact, hadn't promised anything. They were close and shared a soft complicity though obviously even in the most powerful friendships, secrets always found a way to light up the routine.


	26. A confidentiality clause

**A confidentiality clause**

His office smelled of cigars; this strong and disturbing scent that made you sick within a minute and impregnated your clothes deep in its fibres. She would have found it weird and curious if she hadn't previously been married to a couple of businessmen who didn't smoke either. There must be something about the fusion between the leather of the armchairs and the soft carpeted floor; unless it came from the powerful clients who flaunted their wealth through the most expensive Havana items and the smell remained then, trapped eternally. The disturbing fact deserved at least the credit to make her focalize on the person she came to see and it was all she actually wanted while passing through the doors of Will's office.

Sat in front of him on one of the chairs dedicated to the potential clients, Karen was smiling at the attorney, her foot playing dreamingly with the edge of the oak desk. Most of the times they used to meet outside; sharing a lunch at some restaurant or simply skipping it for some bolder moment. But he had insisted so that she joined him there for once without giving any particular reason. And now she had finally arrived, she was simply waiting for the next move. Leaning over, he took a deep breath and narrowed his brown eyes.

"What do you know about astrophysics?"

Confused by the unexpected question, Karen made a face and shook her head.

"Excuse me?"

"Do you know anything about planets, stars and asteroids?"

"To be completely honest I'm afraid I never finished my NASA training last summer… What are you talking about?"

"I have two invitations to the planetarium on Tuesday for those meetings in the Dome and as the evening promises to be extremely boring for me, I was wondering if you'd like to go there with me? Watching the stars together could reach another dimension."

"What kind of dimension would it be, the fourth one? Who gave you those invitations? If you don't feel like attending it then don't."

"It's a very important client and as his lawyer, I have to be there. If you can't though, I understand."

"Unless you consider watching a rerun of Friends with Jack being the social event of the year, I'm available and I will gladly come with you."

"Jack is going to hate me for that."

"Jack would never hate you honey; just be disgusted of what you can do with me. Don't be worried, he's not even sure he'll be here. As a matter of fact he's hoping for a date with a librarian. We already lost him for next week at The Public Library."

The distance had been too long and too painful. Karen stood up and passed on the other side of the desk, sitting back on Will's lap; kissing his lips softly, smiling against his skin. They ordered and had lunch in the office as the rain began to pour over the blue sky of June. Very soon the summer would be back and they would draw a silent cross under the third anniversary of their lies and the first year without Stanley; already. Life was passing by so fast, too much perhaps. She intertwined her fingers with his and observed the lines of her hand getting lost in his. She liked the heat of his skin, the taste of his kisses and the sound of his voice when his eyes were sparkling at her. She hugged him tight and closed her eyes as she plunged her face in his neck, sighing heavily. She knew she was surprising him for being so tender, so far from the person she used to be. But she couldn't help it and while her weaknesses had been the nightmare of her behavior until then, they seemed to have turned all of a sudden into the strength of her heart. It was a different perspective but as long as she could rely on Will, she felt safe and fine before it.

She left in a hurry, grabbing her purse in a furious movement and slamming the door, vaguely running. Perhaps if he hadn't stood up to get some coffee, he would have never noticed it. Hidden behind an armchair, it had probably fallen out of her bag, too light to make enough noise, especially on the carpeted floor. Putting down his mug on his desk, Will squatted down and picked up the packet of Karen's pills, putting it in his pocket; then came back to work.

He closed the door and smiled at Grace who was sat on the sofa, reading some magazine quietly. The night had finally fallen over the city and he was glad to be home after a full day of intense work. Leaning over to kiss his friend's forehead, something slid out of his pocket, brushing his thigh softly before landing on Grace's lap. They both looked down and the interior designer frowned before smirking at him.

"I didn't know you were on the pill, Will."

"It belongs to one of my clients. She forgot it today. It must have fallen off of her purse or something. I put it back in my pocket and obviously, I forgot about it too."

The worst wasn't the facility that came along with the lie but the total absence of guilt. It left a trace somewhere in his mind; the sentiment he should have felt ashamed. Grace grabbed the pack in silence then passed her tongue over her lips before raising her eyebrows.

"I hope your client isn't asking for a divorce. She should wait for that; unless she is seeing someone else."

"Why are saying that?"

"She's pregnant or at least she tries to be."

The red-haired woman misunderstood Will's silence and so she sat up, giving him some clearer information.

"For some reason your client doesn't take her pills one by one, following the chronology of the packet. She skips one every time instead of taking the very following one, probably just to have fun in the boring routine of it. And look, there she skipped three of them and the last time, she started taking it out of the packet but finally left it in. The paper is torn and opened to let the pill go off. She didn't take it though."

"She might have her period."

Though Will knew the answer for some obvious reason and anticipated Grace's negative sign.

"It's a packet per cycle so if she hasn't finished this one yet, she can't have her period. Well, technically she could if she had come to the almost end of it but it's not the case."

She looked up at Will and nodded, highlighting her explanation.

"She's pregnant or hoping so."

His blood didn't have time to get back to a regular warmness in a slow process. The door flew open and Jack entered the flat, followed by Karen. For a couple of seconds Will stared at the millionaire in disbelief, lost between the confusion of the news and the way she kept on behaving; as if nothing had happened and life was going on smoothly. A bright smile was lighting up her eyes and she was laughing happily. She looked so fine.


	27. So many words to be said

**So many words to be said**

She sighed and moaned in his mouth, deepening the kiss before finally breaking apart, breathless against his lips. She loved this moment when it was almost impossible to make the slightest distinction between his body and hers. She didn't exist anymore as herself, neither did he. They had joined into a fusion of flesh, sensual caresses to reach in the paroxysm of the instant and bright warmness of their feelings. Wishing it could last a bit longer, she always tightened her grip on him, listening to nothing but his heartbeats against her chest; the way his lips seemed to rest on her neck. It wasn't a monotone routine but one of the signs, delicate gestures that two lovers used to share in the intimacy of their lives. And she loved it a lot.

"Tell me everything."

It had been a whisper against his ear, her legs still wrapped around his waist; her body so close to his, she had become a part of him. She closed her eyes to enjoy the sweetness of the sensation at the most and waited for a reply, probably a negative one though. Will was stubborn and had difficulties to say out loud the things that bothered him. But he was worried. As a matter of fact, he had been distant in his thoughts for a couple of days as if a mountain of wonders had taken possession of his mind and it was hard for him to come back to reality; facing her and smiling as he used to. Perhaps the moment she had just chosen wasn't the most appropriate for confession but after long hours of observation and silence, the dark-haired woman felt the urge to help or at least talk.

"What do you mean?"

She broke the embrace and let his body go away from hers, not too far either, just a few inches; the required ones after the powerful fusion of their souls. She passed a finger over his lips and smiled shyly. She wasn't good at that, ignoring was easier except when someone's pain started weighing a lot on your own heart.

"You're not fine. What's wrong? Do you have any problems at work or with Grace? You seem to be suffering."

Her sudden worry took him aback but it only lasted a few seconds. Karen wasn't who she pretended to be. She was a good observer, not that self-centered, and he had learned about it for quite a while; but simply forgot, lost in his confusion. He hadn't come up with her eventual pregnancy; hadn't showed her the pack of pills. He couldn't do it, as much as he would have liked to. The words went up slowly from his heart to his lips but vanished suddenly in a whirl of silence and he let it go, one more time. Was she pregnant? Had she changed her mind about motherhood? Why did she stay quiet then? Why did she keep it to herself? He felt betrayed somehow; but then a sentiment of guilt imposed itself in his mind for the reason of the millionaire's silence, finding an explanation into something more serious. Was she ill? Abdicating under his cowardice, he usually looked down and concentrated on the moment, dreading the slightest explanation way too much.

"I'm okay. I may need a rest or something. Work can be stressful."

He was good at lying though as soon as you became more intimate with him, his words were too clear. She frowned and nodded, knowing to perfection that she hadn't been told the truth but things might need time to come out and so she simply leaned over to kiss him sweetly.

The next day a courier brought a small white card to his office. The attorney signed the receipt and opened the envelop, smiling before the delicate attention.  
_Take a deep breath, close your eyes and let them take care of you, honey. _

Her handwriting was elegant, the letters well traced on the creamy sheet of paper added to the invitation to The Four Seasons Spa. He had a reservation for Tuesday afternoon, just before the event at the Dome. The image of Karen stopped by his mind; a knee-length black dress, a glass of martini in hands and a frosty look while a devilish smile was playing on her lips. Why did she feign to be so harsh? She was sweet and attentive; perhaps it was way too common so that she might have liked it. She wanted to be seen, listened to and admired, not just get lost into the anonymity of the crowd and no matter how vulgar it could be, she still preferred scandal to a fade reality; anyway it was just about appearances.

The green satin dress matched to perfection the emerald necklace she had put on; the delicacy of the gems embracing the fragility of her pale complexion. She had done her hair and adopted the elegance of social events by automatism. The attorney stepped out of his bedroom quietly and observed from the corner of his door her behavior. She was talking with Grace, laughing heartedly; delighted. She seemed fine and relaxed. His brown eyes went down in the study of her curves when he suddenly couldn't help but gasp. Her hand was resting on her stomach, the palm spread over it in a protective motion unless his imagination was taking him away into the craziness of some fantasy. Was she doing that for a long time? He looked down and tried to remember the past days but his confusion was such that he didn't manage to see anything but a blurry panel of colors dancing in his head. He hadn't paid attention to anything, barely noticed the slightest change. Was she still drinking? She seemed to have a thing for margaritas lately but Lord knows if it weren't pure tomato juice.

Pushing aside the doubts that had madly invaded his mind, Will finally made his way into the living room and smiled at Grace and Karen. His fingers caressed the back of her hand and he pressed it tightly, brushing her stomach; causing a wave of warm hypothesis to stop by his heart. Adopting a light tone before the intimate gesture and to erase the slightest ounce of interrogation from the interior designer, he looked at the dark-haired woman and winced.

"Is Mrs Walker ready?"

Playing along, her hand came to rest on his cheek and she made him lean over; then kissed the corner of his lips softly. How easy it was to make it pass unnoticed.

"I am, honey."

Yes, it was so easy to make the slightest thing pass unnoticed.


	28. An evening of hopes

**An evening of hopes**

She had been to the Planetarium once with Stanley. His son had taken part in a science project and all the parents had attended the final ceremony under the Dome but it wasn't by night when the stars invaded the sky in a magical embrace and in spite of the bright light of a sunny day, it couldn't be compared to the breathtaking landscape she was admiring now. Looking back at Will, she flashed him an amazed smile as her fingers pressed his hand tightly.

"It's beautiful."

The attorney nodded before leading her to the table where the diner would be served within a minute. The place had been transformed for the occasion into a romantic and singular restaurant where the glimmering of the stars brushed the soft shades of the candles lit up on every single table. Under the canopy, Karen almost felt intimidated by the immensity of the unknown spreading a disturbing strength above her head and you couldn't help but think of how insignificant you were before it. Leafing through a flyer, her attention got caught by the phenomenon of shooting stars and the speed of time. It was all passing by so fast…

"Would you like to drink something?"

His sudden question made her jump and almost instantly forget the loss of the seconds and the disappearance of the years; her dreams getting so blurry. She frowned and rubbed her temples as if the usual evidence of the reply had faded away and doubts were invading her mind.

"Yes, I guess so. What do you want? I'm going to order them at the bar…"

She was already standing up when Will's hand stopped her movement and she sat down, obviously confused by the gesture.

"Don't move from here. You are my guest tonight so what kind of drink you would like to have and I'll get it for you."

Her smile was pale and weak but she seemed to appreciate the attention. Why did she need so much time though? He looked aside and sighed quietly, waiting impatiently for a reply. Maybe her choice would settle down his opinion over her eventual pregnancy. Even though she used to control the situation when alcohol was involved, she would have never stood up to get a drink while being accompanied. That was a fact for having shared her life, secretly, for such a long time now that Will knew. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to ignore one more time the ridiculousness of his fantasies and concentrated on the softness of her hand under his touch.

"I'm going to have a double champagne."

The evening was weird for them barely speaking to the other guests. They had made their choice over a table for two and apart from Will's client at the very beginning; nobody had come over to them. She took a sip of water and let a sigh of satisfaction escape from her lips before the perfection of the meals; then looked around her, avoiding Will just in order to get his attention. It was a subconscious gesture but so classic.

"I bought a mattress the other day. I'm going to put it in the second bedroom; the one that serves as my closet. With some bedspread on it, I'm sure it will look like a sofa or something and if someone wants to spend the night…"

"It's a very good idea. Karen there's something I'd like to ask you."

The déjà-vu of the scene made the millionaire narrow her eyes, hoping though that this time there wouldn't be a blackout; no matter what the question could be.

"Will you must have a thing for crucial moments in public… What do you want to know, honey?"

For the first time since the beginning of the meal, the dark-haired woman grabbed her glass of champagne and took a sip. Will's heart broke into pieces as he looked at her drinking. He should have known that he was heading to the craziness of his fantasies. She locked her eyes with his but frowned before his unexpected silence, ignoring she had already answered to him. He leaned over and captured her lips; she blushed but smiled against his mouth, delighted by the boldness of his gesture. They never shared any intimate attention in public. His fingers slid along her nape and came to rest in her hair as he murmured warmly.

"May we go now?"

A silent laugh embraced her eyes and she nodded.

"I thought you would never ask, honey."

When his lips reached her stomach that night in the premises of their caresses, Will stopped a few seconds and stared at her pale skin in silence, bitter and troubled. As much as he had seen her drink an hour earlier, something still didn't sound right, a sensation he could barely explain. She hadn't finished her glass. As a matter of fact, she didn't seem to have touched it and while opening a bottle of wine at her place, they hadn't had enough time to get a sip. She had taken his hand and headed straight to bed with a mischievous smile reflected in her gaze.

She moaned, waiting desperately for his next move, inviting him to through the brush of her foot against his ankle but instead of logically going down, the attorney got back straight to her face, not even touching her breasts, the slightest inch of her naked body. He plunged his eyes in hers and swallowed hard, asking in silence for a relief. Vaguely taken aback by his unexpected behavior, Karen smiled and caressed his cheek with the back of her hand.

"Don't leave me now. Please, don't leave me now."

Something set off in his heart, a wave of extreme warmness; and it's when he realized that he was in love with Karen. Nothing really had importance, just as long as he could feel her against him, lost in his arms; shivering under his touch. His fingertips caressed her stomach; she frowned and looked down, staring at his odd reaction. Was she really that good at pretending? The rest of his senses vanished and his lips found the softness of her neck as she grabbed his head and pushed him closer to him; arching her back in pleasure. He forgot about the pills, her semi-absence of drinking and the reason why she stayed quiet over it. And no matter that she kept it for herself for the moment, whatever it could be; he knew that one day, more or less soon, they would get a family.


	29. The heaviness of silence

**The heaviness of silence**

"I met someone."

Her nail file fell down on her desk and she looked up at Grace, surprised by her friend's statement. She opened her mouth to speak but only gasped before closing her eyes and leaning on the oak table. Very carefully she let some air enter her lungs and looking aside at a pile of magazines, the words escaped from her lips.

"Open the window."

The interior designer frowned; then scoffed, offended.

"Oh come on, Karen! I'm just dating someone, there's no need to look disgusted like that."

"Open the fucking window. I need some fresh air."

Her voice had sounded cold for being so calm while her loud breath had taken control over her words. Seeing that the red-haired woman didn't move the slightest inch, Karen swallowed hard and stood up slowly. Her fingers were clutched to the edge of the desk, carrying on the weight of her entire body. Her legs seemed so weak all of a sudden. The dreadful moment came when she had to let it go and start walking on her own but she lost her balance immediately, causing Grace to rush to her, panicked.

"Hey, what's happening?"

She passed her tongue over her dry lips and vaguely shook her head as the interior designer was sitting her down on an armchair near the window to let fresh air caress her cheeks and get some color back to her skin. She was livid. Grace squatted down and passed a hand through her hair, worried. Perhaps her day-to-day pill cocktail had decided to refuse any entrance in her body that morning.

"Do you want some water? What have you taken?"

"No, nothing; I'm okay. It's just the incense you're burning. The smell is too strong."

"Karen you bought it for me, saying it was definitely better than the smell of some barbecue sauce."

"Don't speak about food right now. I'm not really in the mood for that."

Before the image of meat, the millionaire restrained a wave of nausea and put an instinctive hand over her mouth; then smiled all of a sudden as a cold handkerchief came to rest on her forehead. She grabbed it and looked at Grace with a disconcerting fragility; a shade of normality that she usually tended to hide so much behind a whole series of scandalous comments.

"Thank you, honey; this is good."

"Are you sick? You can take a day off, you know. If you don't feel fine enough to file your nails and leaf through the last issue of Vanity Fair, you can go back home."

A pale smile played on her lips and she stared at the fire escape stuck between two brick walls. It was a sunny day and the bright light was warming up the metallic stairs, setting off the desire to sit down on them and enjoy the sensation of well-being that it spread.

"I can't believe you finally managed to summarize my two main activities in this office in just one sentence. Don't forget I'm also here to criticise your wardrobe and make fun of your potential boyfriends. What's the name of the new one?"

"His name is Paul. Karen, you're still very pale."

"I skipped diner last night and breakfast this morning. I don't even speak about the marathon I ran during half of the night…"

Grace frowned and shook her head, confused by her friend's words.

"What marathon are you talking about?"

The dark-haired woman raised her eyebrows and put on her sunglasses, smirking mischievously.

"The kind of marathon you're wishing to get with this Paul of yours, honey. Now excuse me but I'm supposed to have lunch with my poodle within ten minutes so I'd better go."

She stood up, grabbed her purse and left the office with a certain vitality, proving to Grace that she was fine and back on track. The interior designer looked at her vanishing at the corner of the door and stayed still for a couple of seconds; still under the adrenalin that Karen's dizzy spell had set off in her own body. The sudden leaving of the millionaire seemed to have left a bitter taste over her heart, a confusing one. Stanley had died for almost a year now and as much as she had never really had any doubts about her friend's eventual night encounters, the dark-haired woman had always stayed quiet about them; until now. And it was weird she had confessed it without the slightest embarrassment, in a whirl of ephemeral seconds, as if this kind of behavior belonged to her day-to-day routine.

Grace sighed heavily, shaking her head to come back to reality and let her wonders fly away when her eyes caught Karen's glass of vodka, half-empty on her desk. It wasn't even noon yet but after the little panic attack she had just got, the interior designer abdicated and gulped down the rest of the drink. The liquid slid along her throat and she couldn't help but cough; surprised not by the strength of the alcohol but on the contrary, by the total absence of the usual burning sensation that accompanied it.

"What is that?"

Obviously lost in confusion, the red-haired woman opened the fridge and took off the bottle of vodka; then smelled it.

In order to come to her already evident conclusions, her lips made contact with the bottle and she took a long sip, jumping as Jack's voice resounded in the background.

"Well, it looks like your assistant is having a huge influence on you these days…"

She turned around and faced him, an expression of astonishment invading her features before the way the events were turning.

"It's water."

"Damn, don't put this bottle next to Karen's or you will hear from her if she happens to pick up the wrong one."

Grace shook her head and frowned, looking for an explanation to her confusion in Jack's eyes.

"This is Karen's bottle. It's water."

Of course he was late. After having taken possession of their table, she had made her way to the restroom; then locked the door. The cold water running on her face was soft and relaxing. She still felt hot, vaguely sick and weak; her hands shaking before the unexpected reaction of her body. She took a deep breath and stared at her own reflection in the mirror; how the drops of water were caressing her skin. She was so pale that her lips had almost turned blue and her eyes were blank. The wave set off from her heart to invade her throat and she closed her eyes to prevent the process from reaching its final way. She swallowed back her tears, clenching her fists; sobbing in silence before it. She was so scared. She reapplied her makeup and went back to the table, waiting for Jack; going on as she had always done.

But as heavy as it could be, sometimes the silence of her voice was still easier than the truth of her fears.


	30. Are you ready?

**Are you ready?**

She had always been fascinated by her body; not in an idolization way but on the contrary because in spite of the years passing by, she felt like she didn't know it at all. It brought her surprises, details she had never noticed before but unfortunately the sweetness of the realization was quickly substituted by a sentiment of sadness. How could you pretend to go on in a crowd of strangers when you didn't even know about yourself? An unexpected yawn escaped from her lips and she covered her mouth with her hand, still staring at her reflection in the mirror of her bedroom. The night had fallen over New York and she hadn't turned the lights on yet. Her foot brushed his jacket, resting on the hardwood floor. The water of the shower was still running next door in the bathroom. As a matter of fact, they hadn't had time to switch on the lamps. They had gone straight to bed in the most common silence of their acts; their desire stealing their words over a wave of kisses.

She turned around and found back her thong, putting it on; then scanned the room, looking desperately for her bra. The straps slid on her shoulders but for some reason her fingers stumbled as she tried to hook it.

"Do you need some help?"

She looked down and smiled at him as his hand caressed hers and he proceeded to dress her; planting a kiss on her nape. Karen took a deep breath, swelling her chest, emphasizing her generous cleavage. She adjusted her bra in silence, ignoring the light pressure of the too small cup size against her ribs but keeping in mind the fact she would need to go shopping in the week unless she wanted to start fainting.

"Damn can you breathe in that?"

He had noticed her discomfort, no matter they were in the dark and apart from the light coming from the bathroom, her body had turned into an anonymous figure. His fingers caressed her breasts, brushed her pale skin and the tensed fabric of the bra. She looked down at his hand and laughed.

"You would do anything to get to touch them, wouldn't you?"

Passing an arm around her waist, Will came closer to her body and began to kiss her ear while his thumb was rubbing her breasts now. She shivered under the light pressure and bit her lower lip. It hurt in spite of the sweetness of his gestures. His other hand travelled from her ribs to her stomach before getting lost against the lace of her underwear in a mischievous motion.

"I would do anything to get to touch you, Karen."

She had put on weight. Her stratagem to hide it was smart and effective if you didn't happen to see her naked. Her hips had got a new shape, her breasts were swollen. There were so many clues that Will still didn't understand why she stayed so quiet over her eventual pregnancy. Was it really just a fantasy of his? The days passed by and it was more and more difficult to believe it; as much as the attorney actually wondered if she would ever come to say anything. He multiplied the sweet attentions and the delicacy of his gestures, hoping she would feel fine enough to rely on him and get the message that he was there and would always be. He had stopped leaving in the middle of the night and stayed with her the whole time until the sun woke them up slowly in the morning. He was supposed to have a new date and needed seriousness before introducing him to Grace; ridiculous lie but it worked so well. And when he wasn't there, he knew that Karen was with Jack, sharing a tender and silly moment that couldn't but help her to feel better.

She didn't look worried at all; that was the most confusing aspect in the story. Nothing seemed to have changed and life went on as it had always done. How could she really keep everything for herself if Will wasn't wrong about her pregnancy?

She pushed the door of the coffee store and scanned the room for him; then smiled, a bit breathless, and headed to his table. It was pouring down and her raincoat was soaked wet; just a storm in the middle of June, the kind of rain they had tried to escape from the day they had crossed the lines of their friendship for the very first time. She sat down and took off her Burberry, reading the menu at the same time; a drop of water running along her cheek. Will swept it away with his thumb and she leaned over to kiss his lips softly.

"Have you already ordered something, honey?"

The attorney shook his head and made a sign to the waiter who came right away, pencil in hand. Her hazel eyes looked at the employee as her hand grabbed Will's, making him jump, obviously surprised by the unexpected demonstration of sweetness that she never showed in public.

"I'm going to have a hot chocolate with a strawberry muffin; and a glass of water, thank you."

"Then you can put two hot chocolates but with a double chocolate muffin for me."

Looking by the window, Karen shook her head in disbelief.

"What a damned weather. It's hard to believe we're heading to the summer."

Her nervous laugh got lost in Will's shy smile and she started moving uncomfortably on her chair. She had left him a message a few hours earlier, asking him to meet her at that place; obviously it wasn't to speak about the seasons. She frowned, deepening her features; then cleared her voice, abandoning his gaze cowardly.

"Yes, well there's something I'd like to tell you, Will. I don't know how to do it though. I mean I've been thinking about it a lot lately, trying to find out the right words and the right sentences but I didn't come with anything at all. I just suck, I'm sorry."

Her hands were now dancing in the air as if her anxiety was trying to escape through her fingers and her palms were burning but everything stopped all a of a sudden and she took off of a bag a magazine; then took a deep breath and tended it to Will.

"Before you do anything, honey, I want to tell you that I'm sorry and… Oh God, don't be mad at me; please. Don't do that to me."

She made a face and waited for her demise but the attorney's incredulous gaze seemed to complicate the situation.

"Why would I be mad at you for an issue of Vogue, Karen?"

"I'd say probably because appearances don't always match with reality."

She opened the magazine and let him deal with the title of an article; _Are you ready?_ Shaking his head, a smile played on his lips for not understanding the slightest thing but as he grabbed the magazine, he felt the pages slid along the Vogue issue and then realized that the article wasn't about fashion at all; the text belonged to another publication put in between the pages of New York Fashion Week. Very slowly he closed the hidden magazine and stared blankly at the cover.

"Will, speak to me…"

The silence was becoming heavy though the attorney had simply thought that he had stopped breathing and his heart had decided to put an end to its beats. With a shaking hand he took off of his briefcase the item he had kept all along with him; not knowing what to do or say before it. It slid on the table, the metallic paper producing a scratching noise and he waited for Karen's looking up back at him to lock his eyes with hers.

The waiter arrived but none of them moved, barely noticed the hot chocolates and the plates with the muffins that had come along suddenly; among the parental magazine and Karen's pack of pills.


	31. And now

**Are you ready?**

She had always been fascinated by her body; not in an idolization way, on the contrary, but because in spite of the years passing by, she felt like she didn't know it at all. It brought her surprises, details she had never noticed before but unfortunately the sweetness of the realization was quickly substituted by a sentiment of sadness. How could you pretend to go on in a crowd of strangers when you didn't even know about yourself? An unexpected yawn escaped from her lips and she covered her mouth with her hand, still staring at her reflection in the mirror of her bedroom. The night had fallen over New York and she hadn't turned the lights on yet. Her foot brushed his jacket, resting on the hardwood floor. The water of the shower was still running next door in the bathroom. As a matter of fact, they hadn't had time to switch on the lamps. They had gone straight to bed in the most common silence of their acts; their desire stealing their words over a wave of kisses.

She turned around and found her thong, putting it on; then scanned the room, looking desperately for her bra. The straps slid on her shoulders but for some reason her fingers stumbled as she tried to hook it.

"Do you need some help?"

She looked down and smiled at him as his hand caressed hers as he proceeded to dress her; planting a kiss on her nape. Karen took a deep breath, swelling her chest, emphasizing her generous cleavage. She adjusted her bra in silence, ignoring the light pressure of the too small cup size against her ribs but keeping in mind the fact she would need to go shopping in the week unless she wanted to start fainting.

"Damn can you breathe in that?"

He had noticed her discomfort; no matter they were in the dark and apart from the light coming from the bathroom, her body had turned into an anonymous figure. His fingers caressed her breasts, brushed her pale skin and the tensed fabric of the bra. She looked down at his hand and laughed.

"You would do anything to get to touch them, wouldn't you?"

Passing an arm around her waist, Will came closer to her body and began to kiss her ear while his thumb was rubbing her breasts now. She shivered under the light pressure and bit her lower lip. It hurt in spite of the sweetness of his gestures. His other hand travelled from her ribs to her stomach before getting lost against the lace of her underwear in a mischievous motion.

"I would do anything to get to touch you, Karen."

She had put on weight. Her stratagem to hide it was smart and effective if you didn't happen to see her naked. Her hips had got a new shape, her breasts were swollen. There were so many clues that Will still didn't understand why she stayed so quiet over her eventual pregnancy. Was it really just a fantasy of his? The days passed by and it was more and more difficult to believe it; as much as the attorney actually wondered if she would ever come to say anything. He multiplied the sweet attentions and the delicacy of his gestures, hoping she would feel fine enough to rely on him and get the message that he was there and would always be. He had stopped leaving in the middle of the night and stayed with her the whole time until the sun woke them up slowly in the morning. He was supposed to have a new date and needed seriousness before introducing him to Grace; ridiculous lie but it worked so well. And when he wasn't there, he knew that Karen was with Jack, sharing a tender and silly moment that couldn't help her, to feel better.  
She didn't look worried at all; that was the most confusing aspect in the story. Nothing seemed to have changed and life went on as it had always done. How could she really keep everything for herself if Will wasn't wrong about her pregnancy?

She pushed the door of the coffee store and scanned the room for him; then smiled, a bit breathless, and headed to his table. It was pouring down and her raincoat was soaked wet; just a storm in the middle of June, the kind of rain they had tried to escape from the day they had crossed the lines of their friendship for the very first time. She sat down and took off her Burberry, reading the menu at the same time; a drop of water running along her cheek. Will swept it away with his thumb and she leaned over to kiss his lips softly.

"Have you already ordered something, honey?"

The attorney shook his head and made a sign to the waiter who came right away, pencil in hand. Her hazel eyes looked at the employee as her hand grabbed Will's, making him jump, obviously surprised by the unexpected demonstration of sweetness that she never showed in public.

"I'm going to have a hot chocolate with a strawberry muffin; and a glass of water, thank you."

"Then you can put two hot chocolates but with a double chocolate muffin for me."

Looking by the window, Karen shook her head in disbelief.

"What a damned weather. It's hard to believe we're heading to the summer."

Her nervous laugh got lost in Will's shy smile and she started moving uncomfortably on her chair. She had left him a message a few hours earlier, asking him to meet her at that place; obviously it wasn't to speak about the seasons. She frowned, deepening her features; then cleared her voice, abandoning his gaze cowardly.

"Yes, well there's something I'd like to tell you, Will. I don't know how to do it though. I mean I've been thinking about it a lot lately, trying to find out the right words and the right sentences but I didn't come with anything at all. I just suck, I'm sorry."

Her hands were now dancing in the air as if her anxiety was trying to escape through her fingers and her palms were burning but everything stopped all of a sudden and she took out of a bag a magazine; then took a deep breath and tended it to Will.

"Before you do anything, honey, I want to tell you that I'm sorry and… Oh God, don't be mad at me; please. Don't do that to me."

She made a face and waited for her demise but the attorney's incredulous gaze seemed to complicate the situation.

"Why would I be mad at you for an issue of Vogue, Karen?"

"I'd say probably because appearances don't always match with reality."

She opened the magazine and let him deal with the title of an article; _Are you ready?_ Shaking his head, a smile played on his lips for not understanding the slightest thing but as he grabbed the magazine, he felt the pages slide along the Vogue issue and then realized that the article wasn't about fashion at all; the text belonged to another publication put in between the pages of New York Fashion Week. Very slowly he closed the hidden magazine and stared blankly at the cover.

"Will, speak to me…"

The silence was becoming heavy though the attorney had simply thought that he had stopped breathing and his heart had decided to put an end to its beats. With a shaking hand he took out of his briefcase the item he had kept with him all along; not knowing what to do or say before it. It slid on the table, the metallic paper producing a scratching noise and he waited for Karen to look up at him to lock his eyes with hers.

The waiter arrived but none of them moved, barely noticed the hot chocolates and the plates with the muffins that had come along suddenly; among the parental magazine and Karen's pack of pills.


	32. Unless it's already too late

**Unless it's already too late**

When she had turned six years old, Karen had witnessed the disastrous scenes of her friend Emily's parents' divorce from the loud arguments in the front yard to the quieter but still evident fight over the custody. She remembered having watched every single new step of violence from their neighbors, hidden behind the curtains of her bedroom, intrigued by the roller coaster of a life that her friend seemed to be experiencing. Then she used to turn around and face the peace of her suburban house, swearing to herself that she would give her future children the assurance of a traditional and loving family. Her father had died a year later and she had said good-bye to any kind of serenity, still keeping in mind though the requirements she had imposed to herself once.

Two divorces and a million of hangovers later, the conclusions were sadly obvious: she had failed. Not only she hadn't been able to settle down her choice over the right man in the first place but she had now conceived a baby with one of her friends in the secret of the highest conspiracies; without saying anything to Grace and Jack while they meant so much, for not saying everything, into her own life. She closed her eyes as a sip of tea slid down along her throat and she took a silent deep breath, filling her lungs with the anxiety of the moment and the sensation she was probably born to ruin people's existence with a devilish avidity. She could feel Will's gaze on her weighing like a ton of bricks and the heavy absence of words escaping from their lips while the rest of the table was joyfully talking.

Looking desperately for courage somewhere in her dying heart, the millionaire cleared her voice and put down her mug. How come nobody had made any remarks about her alcohol free beverage? It would have been so easier if they had come to their own conclusions by themselves.

"There's something I'd like to show you."

She made it slide on the table and after a few seconds of hesitation, she let it go, hiding back her hand in the depths of her lap; waiting for a reaction. Jack leaned over and frowned, obviously confused by the blurriness of the picture but Grace gasped immediately and looked at her, astonished. The slightest sound stayed trapped halfway between her throat and her lips so she finally nodded timidly in a murmur of confirmation.

"Don't take it bad, Kare, though if you're into a photographer career, I recommend you to think about it twice. We don't even know what it is…"

The interior designer gently hit Jack's head.

"Are you that stupid? This is an ultra-sound picture. Karen is pregnant. Are you?"

Grace turned back towards the dark-haired woman who was now giving the actor a comforting smile, a warm one.

"Yes, I am."

"Oh my God, who is the father?"

For knowing that the news would make their friends shriek, she and Will had come to the conclusion that avoiding a public place would be better and obviously they had been right seeing how Jack was giving into a whole range of high-pitched exclamation sounds.

"Well this is quite a long story but maybe not that rare when we think about it. I'm sure it happens more often that we can imagine… I guess I realized that time was passing by extremely fast, especially since I turned… Well, especially since we celebrated my birthday; perhaps the idea had always been in my head somehow and I just didn't pay attention to it for some reason. But Stanley died and when I looked back, I didn't notice the slightest thing. I had given up all my hopes, my dreams; pushing aside, in stand by, my projects for a future but I'm not that young anymore and if there's one thing I didn't want to fail on, it was about having a baby."

The words rushed to her mouth in a whirl of nervousness and guilt that quickly set off in her brain a total incapacity to see anything clear, for it to make sense. She had lost her so controlled references and was now being led by the regular rush of adrenalin spread through her arteries. Her hazel eyes remained on his hands the whole time as if she might find some courage into a vague movement of his fingers, the sign he was feeling the urge to hug her tight and support her in her confessions.

"Someone offered me to be the mother of his child. I don't know if it's fate or just a mere coincidence but at first, I refused the idea but then changed my mind and didn't tell him until a week ago. He's a very good friend of mine and this is the most wonderful act of care he could ever give me. I will never thank him enough for it even though I'm really scared now about all the things that are coming… I turned him down for no particular reason but my fears before any kind of change. I don't have any regrets, you know."

"Yes but who is he?"

She passed her tongue over her dry lips, giving Grace a forceful smile; then opened her mouth but the tears began to blurry her vision and she shook her head, looking down.

"God, I can't do that. I'm sorry, I…"

"It's me."

Sometimes a life can tip over because of a gesture, a gaze or a simple word. When the millionaire heard Will's voice, a wave of warmness filled her heart but got icy within a second. She knew they had signed their demise and everything would be over now, all these years she had spent in their smooth day-to-day life; it had just flown away in the silence of their lies.

"Of course you're kidding, Will; aren't you?"

"No, I'm not, Grace. It's true. I'm the one who asked Karen to be the mother of my child. This is certainly not a light decision and it took me a long time before coming to the conclusion that she was my only hope since you had met Leo and our attempt had been the worst fiasco ever. Don't be angry with me because, come on, face it. You know it's not the kind of scheme you really want; that's why we never got it. It worked out immediately with Karen and as much as I love you, Grace, I know you're still dreaming of having your own family without me."

The interior designer looked down, unaware of the fact that her mouth was wide opened. She was lost and felt empty, barely noticing the beats of her heart as if the whole machine had been replaced by an instinctive automatism to prevent her from dying.

"So this is all because of me?"

After a few seconds she looked back at the wall, avoiding Will's gaze as a veil of burning doubts was emerging in her mind. Her voice had sounded low and blank, the pale reflection of the confusion of her soul. The attorney frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't dare to tell me of your intentions because you were scared of my reaction? This is awful… I'm such a horrible person if my friends are reluctant to… Oh my God… I'm so sorry."

Her red hair moved from right to left, unable to stayed fix on either Karen or Will. She was ashamed at the end; such an unexpected sentiment she would have never imagined to get before this situation.

"Oh Grace, honey… We do trust you. Will and I are just completely stupid and this is not your fault at all. Damn, we lied! There's no way you should feel guilty for that…"

"Karen I have a question."

The millionaire turned towards Jack whose sudden excitement had been substituted by a silent state of deep wondering.

"How could you get pregnant without Will knowing about it? I mean you had the code of the safety box at the clinic?"

From all the ways the situation could have turned in, the dark-haired woman had to recognize that she hadn't thought about this one and it took her aback.

"We never went to any hospital, Jackie. We kind of chose the… Hm… The old fashion way."

"Oh my God you slept with Karen? So after Diane and your so-called failure, you go back at it with Karen? Just tell me, Will… What's wrong with me?"

The attorney lost his last ounce of courage and stared blankly at the table of his living-room, looking for an explanation he had never been able to find out until now.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Grace. It's just me… You're the most amazing girl that a man can ever meet and I've been lucky enough for that but…"

"No... Stop, you don't have to apologize for anything. This isn't your fault; this is nobody's fault. I always knew that we weren't meant to be together in a sentimental way. Our relationship is weird and we're even closer than a lot of couples but… I don't know… I like the way we are and even though I could come backwards, I wouldn't change our past. So just forget what I just said. I'm sorry."

Grace smiled shyly and turned towards Karen. In spite of the tensed situation, the millionaire was glowing. As a matter of fact, the interior designer surprised herself by realizing that for the first time the dark-haired woman looked happy.

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

Karen shrugged, uncomfortable before her friend's hard time.

"I don't know. We want it to be a surprise so in five and a half months I will give you the answer; if everything goes right."

"Of sure it will… You'd be great with a boy."

She could have come up with so many words but these ones warmed up Karen's heart who rushed into Grace's arms.

"Are you going to live with her?"

Karen and Jack had gone for a couple of hours now and Will and Grace were resting on the couch, still dealing with the pressure of the afternoon and the unexpected announcement. Caressing his friend's hair, the attorney shrugged; then sighed.

"I don't know. We haven't talked about it yet. I mean… We wanted a baby and now it's happening. Well… I don't know; we may still need our independence and it would be like a shared custody."

The red-haired woman smiled and shook her heard, raising her eyebrows.

"Why would you do that? She's carrying your child, Will; you chose her. You even slept with her while she had turned you down about the baby conception. Everything happens for a reason... You're going to fall for her. Unless it's too late and you already did..."

Grace passed her fingers along the attorney's forearm absent-mindedly.

"I wish you the best, Will."


	33. Bittersweet, so bittersweet

**Bittersweet, so bittersweet**

She loved the curves of his lower back when the firmness of the spine seemed to melt into his delicate flesh and she felt like leaning over to capture it with her mouth. From all the bodies she had happened to see, Will's was the best one, reaching a state of perfection she could have contemplated for hours and hours like some of those breathtaking sculptures she had seen once in Italy. And she had a thing for his back; from the line of his shoulders to his waist that her fingers used to caress before plunging through his hair when they deepened their kiss and headed to some bolder affair. Her foot went up from his leg to his buttocks, brushing them softly while a mischievous smile played on her lips. The contact with his skin was soft and tempting. She simply couldn't resist when he was naked. The attorney turned his face and shook his head.

"I really have to go, Karen. I'm going to be late."

He was standing in front of an armchair where some of his clothes had previously landed, turning his back to the millionaire who was still in bed, leaned up on her elbows. She rolled her eyes; then pouted.

"You're such a party pooper, Wilma. I was hoping for a second round."

Putting on his boxers, Will narrowed his brown eyes and studied Karen's pale complexion, her appealing feminine curves.

"I may stop by tonight."

Grace and Jack had accepted the pregnancy and everything was coming back to normal little by little. Their anxiety was slowly fading away, adopting the shades of an old souvenir while the routine of the past years seemed to have set off again over their lives. It was reassuring somehow. In the middle of all these changes, the reference of their sexual encounters were comforting like a maternal smile and so they kept it alive, still secret; more or less. They saw each other from time to time but never spoke about it and the way it would evolve. They didn't dare to, not knowing exactly what to think. It was so blurry anyway that for the moment, they only focalized the way they stayed clutched to the figure of their love affair in order to feel safe. Perhaps one day they would make a step forward and say out loud the vague murmur rocking their souls, a weak flame burning in their silent gazes and the hunger of their dreams. Enjoying the soft sensation of the silk of his sweater against her naked body, Karen smiled at Will and waved him good-bye from the doorframe of her bedroom, leaned against it.

He closed the door and she went to the kitchen area to brew some tea. Perhaps it would change, yes; though it was still hard for her to imagine becoming Will's official girlfriend or even less, his wife. It didn't sound right or wasn't supposed to. She passed a hand on her stomach as a wave of doubts invaded her mind.

"Did you enjoy it?"

Grace put down her fork and looked at Will timidly. Obviously she had been thinking about it a lot lately and in spite of all her efforts to draw a line under this aspect of the story that wasn't her business at all, she couldn't help it. Still concentrated on his pasta, the attorney frowned.

"What are you talking about?"

Furtively scanning the room of the Italian restaurant they were having lunch at, the interior designer shrugged, embarrassed.

"I'm talking about Karen and the whole thing. Did you enjoy having sex with her? Did you like it?"

Restraining a cough for having choked on a sip of water, Will cleared his voice, completely aware of the red invading his cheeks.

"Well it's different… But yeah, it was… It's great. I mean… Yeah, I liked it; a lot."

"Were you scared? You had only slept with Diane until now, hadn't you? So it was coming back to something you hadn't appreciated that much; so weird…"

"I wasn't angry with myself this time and I had nothing to prove. It was more sincere, a deliberate act so it might have changed a lot of things. Diane was a mistake, a huge one. I never considered Karen like that and I never will do."

"How many times did you two sleep together?"

Grace knew how impolite her questions were but as the words were coming out, the weight on her heart seemed to vanish little by little and she felt better, almost fine. It was still hard somehow to deal with the situation; even though she kept that for herself.

"Why do you want to know about that? It's a bit…"

"I just wonder if she got pregnant after your first time. If she did, then it's quite a miracle; or fate, I'm not sure... Do you prefer men or women, Will?"

"I'm gay, Grace. I only look at men in the street. I'm not attracted by women."

"You're not gay. Jack is; he doesn't sleep with women, as far as I know. You do."

"I only slept with two women and to be honest I feel like saying just one seeing how my night with Diane turned into a complete disaster…"

"Then what's happening with Karen? Why her? Aren't you attracted by her?"

"Yes, I am but… I don't know… She's the only one; I don't know why."

She would have wanted to ask him if they still saw each other, if they had kept on sleeping together in spite of the success of their first aim but she stayed quiet; for not daring to and already having an idea about it somehow. It got confirmed a couple of days later when she arrived at Karen's place to pick up a previously forgotten umbrella. It was the middle of the afternoon and the millionaire wasn't supposed to be there for having an appointment at some Spa. She entered the flat, saw the item on the counter top of the kitchen but also noticed the music playing in the background. It came from the bedroom. Knowing from experience that her friend might have simply forgotten to turn off the radio, Grace went to the door that had been pushed but wasn't closed. She stayed still a few second, staring at the dark-haired woman's back. Karen was sat on top of Will, in bed. Actually nothing happened into the interior designer's heart apart from a vague sensation of ice over it, a cold shower of logic. The millionaire took off her shirt and unhooked her bra before leaning over and capturing the attorney's lips in a sensual kiss lost in the quietness of the flat; unaware of the presence of her friend behind the door.  
Instinctively or for considering she had seen enough, Grace turned around and left, carrying on the bittersweet taste of having been right. Her cell phone rang as she stepped out of the brown house; it was Jack.

"Hey, Grace. Is Karen at her place? She doesn't answer any of my calls."

The interior designer took a deep breath and wished her voice would sound normal.

"No, she's not. She has an appointment at a Spa."

She ran across the street suddenly, trying to escape from the millionaire's building, from her own confused state of mind and finally sat down on a bench in a small public garden; then closed her eyes, trying to deal with the sadness of her soul. She didn't mind about Will and Karen getting involved into a relationship, as odd as it could be. She had been supportive since the announcement of the pregnancy, like Jack. Her acts were honest and true because she loved her friends more than anything and only wanted them to be happy. So why did they keep on lying?


	34. It's a baby world

**It's a baby world**

Growing in boredom before the silence of the office, Karen stood up and went to pour herself some tea; then leaned on the wall, looking absent-mindedly by the window. When she had applied for the position, she barely knew about the life going on behind the doors of a firm. She used to imagine people rushing over a fax machine, typing furiously an impressive amount of mails, being stuck into a narrow room for a meeting and the receptionist taking a deep breath before answering the thousandth call of the day. Perhaps she had watched way too many movies because now she was a part of an office, she could say out loud how boring it could be; and calm. Grace's giggles made her turn her head, frowning; her bare feet caressing each other slowly while she had previously abandoned her high heels under her desk.

"What are you looking at like that? Why are you laughing at me?"

The interior designer was studying Karen with a disturbing insistence, a soft smile playing on her lips; she seemed moved, mysteriously charmed. She shrugged and locked her eyes with her friend's, some redness of jealousy and sweetness invading her cheeks.

"You have started showing…"

With a light movement of her head, she motioned the millionaire's stomach who immediately looked down at it. Her top had ridden up a little over her skirt and a pale shade of skin was revealed underneath the cotton fabric; the new curves of motherhood appearing clearly now. It was an unexpected association to do with the millionaire but after a couple of seconds of a necessary adaptation, it sounded right; a wave of warmness passing through your heart. Putting down her mug, Karen adjusted her clothes quickly.

"Oh no, don't do that. It's cute. I don't mind at all; there's no client for the moment. It's okay."

The dark-haired woman scoffed, falsely offended by what she quietly pretended it to be a ridiculous idea.

"Well I'm not going to strip for you either, Gracie."

"No, you keep that for Will."

Karen opened her mouth to reply but her gasp made her lips get locked and she looked down, vaguely panicked and confused; still ashamed, with an ounce of guilt over her soul when the slightest reference to Will and her intimacy was told out loud. As a matter of fact, she didn't know how to take Grace's comments about it. Was there reproach in her voice or just amusement over a fact she would have accepted? The confusion was boiling in her mind as soon as she happened to find herself alone with the interior designer because in spite of the red-haired woman's public understanding over the situation, she still could barely believe it for not having been able to if she had been Grace and had had to face it.

Feeling Karen's lack of comfort before her words, Grace smiled brightly and decided to have a break, just in order to get a cool atmosphere back in the office. She dropped out her pen and stood up; then leaned against her desk, looking at her friend's stomach.

"So how is it to be pregnant? Do you feel the baby move? It must be so weird."

Karen cleared her voice, still avoiding the interior designer's eyes. She had really betrayed her once, hadn't she? She shrugged, vaguely closed her eyes, trying to push away this sentiment of guilt but her nervousness got reflected into an incessant twist of her hands.

"It doesn't move yet. I guess in a month or so… I guess it's when it's supposed to begin; I'm not sure. I have to check about that in some book. I don't know a lot about pregnancy for not saying that I completely suck at it…"

"You're learning every day. I'm afraid it's the only real way to get to know about it. This is so special."

"Yeah I suppose so… The truth is that…"

She let a sigh escape through her lips, abdicating after long hours of fight against the battle over her doubts and fears. She would have never imagined that Grace would be the one whom she would confess it; for some obvious reason that tended to get her paralyzed.

"The truth is that I don't feel what others do. I mean, on the web, in books and magazines, all the pregnant women seem so proud and glowing; and so excited about it… I don't get it."

She passed her tongue over her lips and looked at Grace as a wave of remorse invaded her features.

"It doesn't make me that happy… I swear I try to but it doesn't show up at all. This is a complete fiasco. I knew I was a bitch but not at that point. I'm such a horrible person, Grace. I don't deserve this baby…"

She had sounded ridiculous; she knew it. That's why her friend was looking at her now in disbelief, unable to reply. Perhaps she should have kept it for herself as a matter of fact and one more time Karen regretted to have let her feelings win over her mind.

"Karen you have just got your fourth month so the pregnancy is still quite invisible; for you and for everyone. There are some signs but it's still so blurry. A lot of women don't really get the fusion you're talking about before them beginning to show and feeling their child kick. I guess you're just normal; you don't suck and you're certainly not horrible… Okay some women seem to go into a sort of trance as soon as the test turns out to be positive but it doesn't always work like that. And it also depends on the situation… You're not going through a traditional one…"

The millionaire narrowed her hazel eyes, pouting before her friend's opinion. It sounded right but she couldn't help thinking that maybe, she would be the exception that would confirm the rule and she would never feel anything. She would be so guilty…

"Yeah tell me about that… Tomorrow we go to Marilyn and George's. This is supposed to be the big day, the supreme announcement of Will still being gay but maybe not that much at the end seeing I'm carrying his child and we never went into artificial insemination. Oh God what kind of parents are we going to be? I don't even want to imagine what this child is going to go through because of our stupid whim…"

"Nobody gives a shit about traditional schemes. As long as you give love to your child, and I'm sure you will, then there's nothing to worry about."

_Except for Will's parents' reaction, maybe… _But Grace shut her mouth and let those words fly away in her mind.


	35. Why we don't kiss

**Why we don't kiss**

Life had turned into a perpetual change of moods for the millionaire but as much as you would have told her that it was hormonal, she would have kept on scoffing and pretending you were wrong; that she had just some whims she needed to satisfy, a wave of desires that took possession of her body without any warning and she couldn't but succumb to them, feeling a little disarmed. A second was enough to make her smile vanish as the pain of a veil of tears insinuated her throat little by little, for some mysterious reason she was unable to explain it properly. She felt like crying, making love and then fighting over the smallest detail ever but at the end she was always frustrated, perpetually hungry for more feelings, more sensations of fantasies.

They had ended up in bed that night; not that it was really surprising seeing that most of the time the attorney always found his way back into her arms but they had barely spoken about it the next day at Will's parents' place. All of a sudden, Karen had rushed to his lips and the boldness of her gestures had made him abdicate. She had felt the urge rushing from her heart to her mouth, the irrepressible necessity to caress his back, enjoy the heat of his body against hers and the unique sensation of their thrusts while reaching step by step the so overwhelming orgasm that would make her sigh in his neck, wishing nothing more than to go back at it again. She had shivered under his touch, moaned of pleasure as his tongue had played with her nerves then bitten her lower lip to prevent from letting some words come out; disturbing ones, a bit too honest as a matter of fact. He had stayed the whole night but making sure that the next morning Grace and Jack would find the bed of the other bedroom unmade and there wouldn't be any suspicion. They would think that he had slept in the other bedroom, surrounded by Karen's skirts; an iron board leaned against the wall next to the fireplace and opened chests of drawers from where were hanging hoses and bras; her closet serving as the guest room for invisible friends. She might have bought two mattresses and set them in the middle of the room to create a large couch, nobody actually took advantage of them because apart from Will, Grace or Jack, she had no one to invite over.

Who were they fooling with this so-called scenery? They went on though; whenever the attorney stayed and their friends had some chance to stop by the next morning. Removing the sheets, padding the pillow case and then they looked at it with a satisfied smile in spite of the sensation running through their minds that it sounded all ridiculous. It was just another lie.

"I'm not your suburban wife, Wilma. So don't count on me for that. I will never carry this fucking stupid home-made pie just to look like the perfect house angel. Who are you kidding?"

She sat down furiously on one of the chairs of the diner area, vaguely looking at Grace and Jack falsely busy reading and commenting the gossips of some tabloid near the television; then came back to Will and shook her head. Putting on her stockings, the nervousness of the imminent meeting had finally found a prey into his shy request and she had made it so big that they were now arguing over who would be in charge of giving Marilyn the dessert when they arrived out there.

Jack turned his face and raised his eyebrows before the scene his two friends were performing a bit farer in the living room but his wonders seemed to get lost in his daydreams.

"They never kiss."

The interior designer smiled at him, amused by the remark that didn't match at all with the moment and the actor misunderstood her silence so he went on.

"They never show the slightest sign of care and affection in public; how sad. It's such a waste…"

"They sleep together."

She had said it so low that Jack had barely been able to hear it properly and so he simply frowned. The red-haired woman nodded as a wave of relief spread over her heart for at last having someone to tell about it.

"I walked in on them. Well, they didn't see me but… They were having their way and you can believe me, Jack, they were far from the awkwardness and the timidity of the first times."

Too focalized on their argument, Will and Karen were completely unaware of being observed and studied in their least detail by their friends. The actor didn't gasp, vaguely reacted before the statement.

"So you think they have been sleeping together for a long time…?"

"You don't seem surprised."

"Why would I be? They're in love with each other; it's so obvious. Have you noticed the way she looks at him, and vice-versa? I noticed a change in Karen like eight months ago but it may even be older. I just didn't really pay attention to it before because there was Stan."

This time Grace widened her eyes and stared in disbelief at the actor, shocked by the meaning of his words; by the eventual veracity of them. What if he was true?

"Are you insinuating that she could have cheated on her husband with Will? Damn this would be so huge…"

Jack shrugged, not at all troubled by the idea unless he was just better at acting than he used to pretend to.

"Karen and Will have one thing in common: they are both extremely secretive people. They can handle this kind of situation; a love affair isn't that hard to keep alive and quiet, especially with Stanley's absences and all. I don't really mind you know because they're made for each other; it's obvious. I just don't understand why they come up with all these lies. It's such a waste of time…"

The attorney squatted down before the dark-haired woman and locked his eyes with hers. She had expected reproach and disappointment in his gaze but all she found was this terrible sensation that was actually running through her veins and making her heart beat so fast: Will was terrified of what they were about to do and he was just looking for a way to ease his silent fears, thanks to a comforting help from her side. It burned her throat and spread over her mind until the guilt took definitely possession of her and so she rolled her eyes; then nodded, lowering her voice to a peaceful tone. It was time for forgiveness, to get back to normal. She bit her lower lip and pouted.

"What kind of pie is it anyway?"

"It's a strawberry one with a zest of lime."

This time the tears welled up in her eyes and Karen shook her head in disbelief, caressing with her hand the attorney's cheek.

"It's what I was craving for this morning…"

"I know. I made it for you. You're carrying my child so I'm taking care of you."

"Aren't you sweet?"

She leaned over and kissed his lips softly under Grace and Jack's surprised faces. The actor sighed.

"Well isn't that a little miracle in itself? And now let's go back to the next lie. Why do they hide it from us?"

Grace turned around and went back to the tabloid, not paying attention at all to the photographs.

"I guess they don't do it on purpose. They think they're not lying about their feelings. They're scared to death of the truth because of all the things it means. They don't dare to assume who they really are, not yet. And so they enjoy themselves into the little fictive world of their love affair or whatever we could call that. They're probably sure they're fooling everyone but let's face it, Jack… Their lies only comfort their frightened minds. I just hope that one day, they will be able to say everything out loud and start living under the bright light of their life."


	36. Life depends on an airplane

**Life depends on an airplane**

It was smooth and delicate on the tongue, like an unexpected caress in the morning when you had just woken up and not even realized yet that someone was next to you in bed. The coldness got quickly substituted by the heat of the mouth and as it slid along the throat, the magic of your senses got lost in the pleasure of the moment. Karen moaned, closing her eyes as she took a first spoon of coconut yogurt; then heavily sighed, delighted. She had developed a strong addiction to the singular dessert lately and spent most of her times throwing away empty jugs into the trashcan. The weekend had been quiet and restful in spite of Will's absence, since he had gone away to Las Vegas for a business trip a couple of days earlier. She had stayed with Grace and Jack the whole time, looking for a presence all along. She usually didn't mind being alone but her pregnancy had set off a wave of needs like this one: being constantly surrounded by people to feel safer and not forgotten.

The millionaire smiled as she looked at a black and white picture between two spoons of coconut yogurt. It wasn't blurry anymore and the little white form on the previous photographs had now adopted the figure of someone; a real person who was growing up little by little and was a part of her and Will. The idea was breathtaking as old as it also was and Karen was beginning to understand about the uniqueness of a pregnancy.

"Have you seen the hands, Grace? They're perfect."

The interior designer looked up from a magazine she was reading and nodded, amused. She was glad to see that Karen had at last succumbed to something she had been dreading not to experience for so long. Sitting up on her chair, the red-haired woman studied the ultra-sound picture that her friend was holding with attention. It was the last one of course. The appointment they had gone to together for Will not being in town but already off in Nevada. The results had been extremely positive: mother and child were healthy and in spite of a natural fatigue, things were going well, very well. It had been weird to witness Karen in a mother status for a few minutes. As much as her stomach was getting more and more the shapes of pregnancy, she hadn't changed her behavior a lot but all of a sudden while seeing her laid and looking at the screen with seriousness, Grace had swallowed back a gasp and from then on had assimilated completely the fact that the millionaire was expecting a baby; it had become obvious through the way Karen's hazel eyes had stared at her future child.

"You're conceiving the next Miss or Mister Universe, Kare. This baby is perfect."

"I wouldn't say that either. Look at the head… It's so big…"

Jack rushed in, dancing excitedly on his feet; waiting desperately for his friends to ask him the reason of his extreme happiness. The dark-haired woman abdicated first.

"Why are you smiling like that, honey?"

"Karen Walker aka mommy Truman… You're on a date tonight!"

Her heart seemed to stop beating suddenly as a veil of ice spread over her veins and she stayed still, looking in disbelief at the actor who was grinning before what he thought to be the best idea ever after the invention of fire. She passed her tongue over her lips, not knowing what to say. It was delicate for not saying impossible. How tell her friends that she wasn't looking for anyone when her own lies had led her to a complete denial of Will's presence in her life as someone more than a mere lover. Even this question caused a wall of tension in her mind as if admitting it, she was recognizing this so-called relationship that she seemed to love denying.

After a long moment of indecision and obviously lost battle, she accepted the date, for Jack. After all it would only be for an evening and she was craving for a French brasserie; she just wondered what kind of men could be attracted by pregnant women apart from frustrated or fanatic guys that she preferred to stay away from but the actor had assured her that Tom was a nice, charming and good-looking mister right so she finally nodded and headed to the unknown of her blind date.

After long hours of preparation and existential questions over the choice of her clothes, the millionaire sat in front of what she couldn't recognize as being Jack's most impressive decision. Tom Shepherd had everything to succeed. He was smart, funny and extremely handsome. Karen's hormones were working hard to jump on him in the middle of the restaurant and get rid of his Armani suit in a motion of wild desire. But as soon as the least thought of some bold fantasy entered her mind, the image of Will came back immediately and ruined it all even before it really starting. This was far from being new to her; even when she had been dating Andrew her brain set off the whole machine of focalization over the attorney but as much as she knew what it meant, she still rejected the idea; and would always do.

She came back home around midnight, alone; divided by the sensation of having been unfair and right at the same time. Sighing heavily she simply went to bed and too tired to think about it twice, she succumbed to her dreams peacefully.

Monday mornings belonged to a hateful routine of blurriness and misunderstandings. Karen got up and headed straight to the bathroom to have a shower, still half-asleep. But very soon the vivacity of the water would make its work and she would emerge a couple of minutes later awake and more or less ready to face the day that was coming. As soon as she stepped into the living room, two pairs of eyes got locked with hers and she rolled her eyes, adjusting her silk top over her stomach. She loved those moments when she was the center of attention and made everyone one die while not saying a single word, keeping it for her the longest possible; just to get on their nerves.

"So how was your date with this gorgeous guy?"

Pouring some tea in her mug, she looked aside at Grace and Jack; then shrugged.

"It was okay…"

A bright smile of victory played on her lips as she saw her friends' horrified expressions before the idea she could have not been seduced by such a hottie. She turned the radio on and began to have breakfast, delighted by the silence her words had let over the flat.

"Hurry up, kiddies. We're supposed to be at the airport in a couple of hours to pick Will up; flight 211."

Perhaps if they had been speaking she wouldn't have heard it but would it have changed something? She winced at Jack and tended a mug to Grace when the words hit her heart and she froze, vaguely died. At the beginning she thought she had misheard it and mixed her own schedule with a sad event that unfortunately happened every day but as she concentrated on the journalist's report, the evidence got clearer.

"Breaking news: the flight 211 to JFK crashed for an undetermined reason just after having taken off in Las Vegas. For the moment and according to the police, there's no survivor to be counted for."

In a last hope of mistake, she looked up at Jack and Grace but their livid complexion only confirmed her own fear.

"Oh my God…"

A wave of panic took possession of her; the room began to spin around and for whatever reason, instead of staying sat, Karen decided to stand up; then rushed to her cell phone. She hadn't missed any calls.

"Damn Kare… Are you sure he was on this flight?"

Looking up at Jack, the dark-haired woman frowned, confused. If only she could have been wrong…

"Yes I am! Hell, how many flights do you think there is at this time of the morning heading to JFK from Las Vegas? Oh my God, no; not that. No, they must be kidding. That's not possible…"

Seeing how the millionaire started hyperventilating while holding her stomach, Grace took a deep breath and rushed to her; rubbing her back, making her sit down on the couch.

"Don't be worried, Karen. I'm sure he's safe. I mean he can't be dead, just wait for…"

A natural barrage blocked the way of any comforting word to her soul and she got lost in her despair, shaking her head; staring in disbelief at the hardwood floor where a pile of magazines was serving as a table for an old and empty bottle of water.

"Oh God, what am I going to do? No, not that; please… I don't want… I can't…"

She didn't anticipate it at all and the sudden explosion of tears made her gasp. She felt exhausted all of a sudden, like in a bad dream.

"It can't be possible. No, not that… Not now. I need him… I… What am I going to do?"

Jack had rushed to her now and both he and Grace were trying to reassure her as much as themselves.

"Hey you're not alone; we are all here and we will always be, for each other. Do you hear me? You're not alone."

The red-haired woman had grabbed Karen's face to lock her eyes with her friend's hazel ones; not sure though of whom she was wishing to convince but the millionaire went on.

"No, you don't understand. I can't go on without him. I don't want to be a single mom and… And… I need him, he's…"

"Calm down, Karen. Think about the baby. This is no good for your pregnancy. Breathe for God's sake, breathe!"

Her rage made her jump and she stood up, looking at the ceiling in disbelief; aware of Grace and Jack's eyes on her back. She was sobbing so loudly that she couldn't actually hear her own words coming out her mouth.

"Don't fucking tell me what I have to do! Why would I go on now? Gosh I'm such a bastard, I can't believe it… Why do I always have to ruin everything, why?"

"But it's not your fault, Kare…"

Turning around she stared at Grace and nodded.

"Yes it is! I didn't dare to say anything because I was too proud or too stuck into my fucking stupid little selfish life and…"

"What are you talking about?"

She took a deep breath and the weight vanished all of a sudden; in spite of the moment, she felt how her heart got light under the sound of a well-known and extremely bitter truth.

"I love him! Hell, I'm in love with him and… And I never had time to tell him about it…"

The meaning of her words hit her a few seconds later and made her freeze; then gasp. Nobody was speaking, as much as the honesty of her heart wasn't a big surprise. She shrugged and kneeled down before her friends, looking blankly aside. A bitter laugh escaped from her mouth; she rolled her eyes as her voice adopted the quiet tone of confession.

"It has always been him… Since the day he came to the office, I knew I had fallen for him. But I would have never imagined all the rest; how he would end up looking at me the way he did... I didn't mean it to happen, I'm sorry Grace… I have no hold over it, you know… And so what? Anyway it's too late; I lost him."

A single tear ran on her cheek, sweeping away the last print of the storm that had just devastated her heart and Karen sat down slowly on the floor, realizing how life could be sharp sometimes.


	37. Take it as a sign

**Take it as a sign and don't forget me behind**

Nobody dared to move or speak, for various reasons according to the role they had been given before the news. Grace and Jack tried to catch up with reality and the attempt to move forward, backing up their friend; though they were as shocked as Karen who was now facing not only her most intimate confessions but the weight of a nightmare that sounded too real to be painless.

"Perhaps they're giving a number to call or something… We should try the airport. Jack, turn on the television."

The millionaire looked at Grace and couldn't help but admire her capacity to go on or at least to pretend so. She wished she could have done the same but she had suddenly turned on an automatic which system had broken into pieces and she stayed there, looking blankly at the floor. She felt the interior designer's arms around her, settling her on the couch; then she stared at her friend. She would have loved to be able to speak and say she was sorry for everything. She had never wanted to steal Will from her; anyway she hadn't done it as he was dead now, his bones probably already nourishing the ground of the desert. Her cell phone rang and the three friends turned towards it but didn't move. It took her a couple of seconds before daring to tend her hand and grab the item, looking blankly at the ID on the screen. She gasped.

"What happens? Who is it?"

She turned towards Grace and shook her head, completely lost.

"It's… It's Will's phone."

Shaking, she took the call and waited; unable to say the slightest thing. She would have never thought that a voice had so much power; that it could make you come back to life or ruin your hopes within a second. It had taken her thirty-eight years or so to realize it when she heard him on the other end and she burst into tears.

"Oh my God you're not dead?"

Her sudden question made Jack and Grace look at her in disbelief, waiting for further explanations while Will was speaking over the phone.

"Oh my, so got to know about the crash? No, I missed my flight and as it was really early I thought I would wait a little while before calling you but then I got to know what happened… That's why I'm calling. I'm okay… Don't cry, Karen. I'm okay."

She could hear him laugh through her own tears but she could also distinguish in his voice the same fear as hers; life was so short, so fragile.

"Then when do you arrive home, honey?"

Karen nodded and hung up, breathless. She looked at Grace and Jack, pushing away the tears from her face with the back of her hand. She felt so fine and light but terribly stressed.

"He missed the flight…"

JFK was crowded when she arrived there three hours later but Lord knows how she didn't care; she needed to see him and throw herself in his arms as soon as he would pass the gates. Making her way frankly through the passengers and families of the victims, she lost Grace and Jack behind but didn't notice it. Her eyes remained on the blue spot she could vaguely see above people's heads, the only place she really wanted to be. The rest didn't matter and would never do. Her heart was beating fast, pounding loudly against her chest as a wave of nausea had stopped by her throat and she could feel tension in her stomach. The last hours had been hard for the baby, as much as for her. She finally reached the security barriers, holding her breath before the doors that were still closed. The murmur of the crowd grew in exclamations as the first passengers appeared; a whole series of strangers that Karen had never felt so close to. Disasters had this odd power to cause encounters through blank gazes of despair and joy; it depended on which side of the tragedy you actually were.

She gasped and ran to him as soon as he passed the doors; throwing herself into his arms, bursting into tears, kissing him deeply as if it was the last time she was able to do it. Vaguely surprised by her sudden arrival, Will finally relaxed and made her twirl around, holding her tight. The salt of her tears were getting mixed with their tongues and all of a sudden she realized that he had also succumbed to what was now a mutual relief that only tears would satisfy properly. He broke apart and cupped her face between his hands, smiling softly.

"Damn stop crying, Karen. It's okay, I'm here now."

She didn't think it twice and locked her eyes with his brown ones; then bit her lower lip, taken away by a wave of shyness.

"I love you, Will. I always did. I'm in love with you… God, I love you so much."

Grace stopped Jack, grabbing his arm as they made their way to their friends but realized they were lost in each other's gaze. Obviously they weren't needed right now.  
He leaned over and captured her lips before replying against them that he shared the same feelings.

"I thought you were dead… And I would never see you again…"

Karen shook her head and let her murmurs go away in the quietness of the bedroom, caressing Will's cheek with her fingertip. They had come back at her place, chatting excitingly just in an attempt to forget the fears that had set off over their souls a couple of hours earlier. She hadn't let his hand go the whole time; she needed to feel him against her, be sure his heat was there and not merely fictive. Then Grace and Jack had left, anticipating the desire of their friends to find themselves alone in the intimacy of comfort and reassurance. Her lips planted a kiss on his shoulder blade and his hand passed through her hair, caressing her head softly.

"Karen if we go on like that you're going to give birth before tonight…"

They had made love twice with the intensity that only a closeness to some end could set off, sweetened though by the confession of their feelings and it had sounded different, better but definitely not enough for the dark-haired woman who captured Will's mouth and went on top of him; then stopped all of a sudden.

"Don't go away anymore; please, stay here with me… We need you, honey. We need you to keep on breathing."

The tears welled up in her eyes and the attorney hugged her fragile frame as much as he could; trying to push away the fact he had also thought that if he hadn't missed his flight, he would have never been able to hold her in his arms again like now.


	38. The key of confidence

**The key of confidence**

Life went back to normal little by little through a thousandth of details showing an evolution towards relief and happiness. To be completely honest, it was hard to say who had been the most scared. Karen's behavior was simply obvious and she didn't let go of him, showing affection towards him every single second as if while doing that, she was trying to catch up with time and beg pardon for having lied all along. She had betrayed Jack and Grace but also her own heart. Will was more timid in his demonstrations but the silence of his gaze was loud enough to emphasize the fact that he knew what he had just escaped from, for whatever reason. They stayed at her place three days in a row without going out, spending time in each other's arms from the couch to the bed; from the bed to the bathtub. Wherever he went, she followed him, the palm of her hand spread over his skin to feel the heat of his body against hers in a relaxing motion.

She passed the door of the office and smiled at Grace with awkwardness. It was the first time she came back to work since she had said out loud her true feelings for the attorney and taken away in the whirl of the events, both women hadn't had the chance to face each other and weigh the implications to such a situation. Will was supposed to send her a message every single hour, just to tell her that he was fine. It was the only conclusion they had managed to come to in order they finally plunged back into the real world of work and temporary distance without setting off a wave of panic that miraculously until now didn't seem to have caused any particular sequel on Karen's pregnancy. She hadn't had any contraction, just felt a bit tensed and tired. The dark-haired woman cleared her voice nervously before sitting down at her desk. A key was resting on top of a pile of magazines. She frowned and looked at the interior designer.

"What is this key for?"

"It's for the show room; I finally made it change after Jack put a chewing gum in the hole because 'it was fun like hell' according to him. So never forget it when you go there because you can't open the door without it once you're in the room; that or keep your cell phone with you all the time… By the way I'd like to show you a couch that has been delivered yesterday. Tell me what you think about it."

The millionaire nodded and stood up, following her friend while adjusting her cotton top over her stomach that was fighting silently to reveal her pale skin before the least of her movements. Perhaps she should buy longer tops now instead of pulling on them in what was always a vain attempt, anyway. The show room was large but windowless and only a pale neon was lighting up the place, reflecting on the white walls the shadows of the fabrics and pieces of furniture that had been stocked there before any approving. The couch was elegant and well designed in deep red velvet. Karen passed her hand over it, her fingers sliding along the soft fabric; then sat down, adding a whole series of unreadable expressions. Grace rolled her eyes before the annoying scene and leaned against the door, closing it slowly. Padding a cushion, the dark-haired woman finally nodded convincingly.

"This is a great one. Yes, I like it."

"That's perfect. Now give me the key and let's go back to work, I have plenty of things to do and…"

"Which key are you talking about, honey?"

Grace closed her eyes and held her breath for a second as her heart speeded up its pace and a wave of icy heat spread over her blood; her mind boiling in turmoil and praying for a mere misunderstanding.

"I'm talking about the key I gave you this morning, like five minutes ago. The one that is supposed to open the door of the room we are in right now."

"Oh yeah, this one!"

Karen's apparently calmness tended to reassure the red-haired woman; at least for a second or so because her next words simply set off a frank panic and anger in her eyes.

"Well this key is on my desk, Gracie. Take yours!"

"That is so something I'd like to, Karen, but I'm afraid I can't."

The millionaire who until now had been focalized on the couch suddenly looked up at her friend before shaking her head, confused.

"Why can't you?"

"Because my key is also on my desk; I thought you had taken yours!"

"Why would I do that? You're the boss, I just follow you! That's why you hired me; well, that and criticize your whole persona and… Oh, I'm going to do it now, Grace Adler! Are you stupid?"

Karen had stood up and was now arguing face-to-face with her friend, taken away by the anxious idea of being trapped in a windowless room but in the middle of her yelling, she stopped all of a sudden and began to hyperventilate. Losing her balance, she sat down immediately on the couch as her hazel eyes, wide opened, were looking for a way to forget the place. Grace squatted down, as panicked as her for not saying more as she found herself locked in a room with a pregnant woman and proceeded to lay her down on the couch.

"It's okay, Karen. Try to relax and please don't tell me you're claustrophobic…"

"What I know, Grace? Until now I wasn't diagnosed emotional either and look at the way I've been behaving with Will these days!"

Twenty minutes later calmness had come back over both women unless it was just resignation and the wait until Jack or a courier stopped by and opened the door to release them. Karen was still laid on the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling, a hand on her stomach as Grace was sat on the floor, leaned against the furniture, trying to swallow back the wave of anger that was boiling in her veins. The silence was heavy and uncomfortable at a point that the millionaire almost regretted the argument. At least it made it go faster.

"I'm sorry, Grace."

"It's okay. I guess I'm going to put a phone in this room though…"

"No, I'm speaking about Will. I'm sorry if I hurt you in any way."

The dark-haired woman could feel the presence of her friend a few inches away from her but for some obvious reason, she didn't dare to look at her and so she kept on contemplating the neon above her head. Grace stayed quiet a couple of seconds, setting off hesitation in Karen's mind, unsure of the reason of her silence; then sighed as she heard her reply.

"You didn't hurt me… It's surprising, completely unexpected but… There's nothing hurting in it… How long have you been at it for? I know it's not like six months ago or so as you said it. Jack thinks you were lovers even before Stanley's death… Is that true?"

"Jack…"

Grace nodded but didn't say a word. She wanted an answer, a sincere one this time. Karen opened her mouth to speak but it was hard, realizing for the very first time the weight of lying.

"I still don't understand why it happened. It set off over confusion, precipitation and hunger. I twirled around under the rain and the next thing I knew was that it would never be the same anymore…"

"Was it like a date?"

"God no, not really… We were arguing and there was a storm. I provoked him, thinking that he would say he had seen enough but he kissed me instead and… I don't know, it was relieving as if while having sex there under the rain…"

"Wait, you did that in the street?"

Karen laughed lightly before the craziness of it.

"Yes, we did… I told you that it was more about hunger and sexual tension that romanticism! At least I tried to persuade myself of that… We never had any inhibition, any remorse. The day after our first 'encounter' I booked a suite at The Lowell and from then on it became a troubling but so exciting routine."

"When did it happen? When did you set it off?"

"More or less three years ago…"

"Oh my God…"

Karen let a scream escape from her throat, making Grace turn around immediately, panicked before this sudden reaction from her friend. Her dark hair was falling over her face as she had leaned over her stomach, her hands over it. The interior designer frowned.

"What's happening?"

Looking up slowly at her, Karen smiled brightly but with an ounce of awkwardness that only unusual things could cause. She swallowed hard; then passed her tongue over her lips.

"The baby kicked."


	39. The weight of life

**The weight of life**

It took her away at high speed, like a hurricane that would have come from nowhere and deployed its strength over Karen; a sort of whirl made of ice and sharpness but that for some reason wouldn't kill her at the scene. Agony sounded better, agony and wait.

She rubbed her eyes and sat up in bed as Will came in carrying on their breakfast. She was never hungry in the morning but the attorney's concern over her health used to finally push her to take a bite of toast and a sip of tea. As a matter of fact she was missing coffee; and vodka. It hadn't matter at the beginning as the wonders over her pregnancy had stolen most of her time but now that things seemed to settle down, her old habits were coming back little by little and she didn't feel fine. A sleepy smile lit up her face as her lips kissed his shoulder as he joined her in bed but her eyes remained on the food. It made her nauseous. Reluctantly she took a French toast and began to play with it more than actually to eat it. Of course it didn't pass unnoticed and very soon Will's reproaches fell down on her; one more time.

"Stop playing with your food and eat. How many times do I have to tell it to you, Kare? This is…"

"I know; this is the most important meal of the day. Yes, I got it; thanks. I'm not hungry, that's all. And just seeing all this food at these early hours of the morning…"

"It's ten."

"Whatever; anyway it makes me sick."

The ringing of the phone absorbed Will's sigh and the dark-haired woman got up, thanking in the silence whomever was calling on a Saturday morning. She would remember then that the sun was passing through the windows because it caressed her ankles with a warm softness and it was a sensation that she had always loved, a lot. She crossed the living room and picked up the item without knowing that this simple gesture had just set off a period of darkness.

"Hi, Karen, it's Emma…"

Her first reaction was a light frowning before her GYN's phone call. They had already agreed on a date for the future appointment and it wasn't supposed to take place before three weeks or so. Her heart began to beat faster, her mouth getting dry and subconsciously she sat down on the edge of the couch, listening to the scientist's speech.

"I got the results of your last blood test and I would like to see you… Well, could you stop by today?"

For a couple of seconds she forgot about the process of speaking as her mind focalized on a series of hypothetical reasons that could lead Emma to an urgent request. She didn't find out any positive one.

"Is there any problem? What's happening?"

"Well… I don't want to talk to you about it over the phone. I need to see you, this is important. Will can come too."

Will; the sudden sound of his name made her turn her face and look at the door of the bedroom and without knowing how, she confirmed her new appointment right in the morning.

She stepped into the building a couple of hours later. She could have been there ten minutes after Emma's call if she had really wanted but there was Will and it had taken a very long time before coming to the conclusion that she preferred to go there alone. He hadn't insisted, after all he had some plans with Grace; though he would have cancelled everything if he had got to know where she was going to. She hadn't been able to be honest because even in her mind, the situation was blurry and she kept on convincing herself that everything was fine and would always be. There was no need to worry him.

Emma's smile tended to reassure Karen but the pile of flyers next to her medical file contrasted sharply with her first sensation and one more time she didn't know what to think. She sat down quickly and twisted her hands, waiting desperately for an explanation to this emergency.

"I had the results of your triple test this morning and I wanted to talk about it with you because they turned out to be positive…"

She found it funny how the world could fall down at the most unexpected moment; how when you thought that you had reached a state of nearly perfection, the nastiness of reality called you back right down on the ground and you felt like dead. Looking blankly at the purple folder keeping all sort of information about the way her body worked, the millionaire shook her head.

"What does that mean? I don't understand; I guess I forgot what it was for… I mean, aren't I fine? Isn't the baby fine?"

"The triple test is an investigation to detect steroid sulfatase deficiency, trisomy 18 also known as Edward's syndrome and trisomy 21 that you probably know better as Down's syndrome…"

"So the baby isn't fine, right?"

"The test is for screening, not for diagnosis and most of the times, women who turn out to be positive finally learn that it was just a false alert. So you don't have to worry about it. It might be nothing at all… You told me you have no trisomy case in your family, are you sure?"

"No, I don't think so. I mean, I'm not that close to my family so…"

"But you don't remember anyone; a cousin or…"

It hit her immediately as she heard the scientist said out loud the word "cousin". Of course she had forgotten him; perhaps she shouldn't have to.

"Dan; Dan was my cousin. He was two years older than me and… It's been so long now that it didn't cross my mind. I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to. Did he suffer from any of those syndromes?"

"Yes, it must have been Down's syndrome. I'm not sure because I was really young. The last time I saw him I was six. We used to spend the summer together. He was nice, very attentive and he loved hugging me. But he was different, that's all I could say by then. I didn't really understand what he had."

"Okay so I would like you to get an amniocentesis; because of a trisomy case in your family and because of your age. This is the only way to have a real and effective diagnosis. You're seventeen-week pregnant which is perfect for the test now we won't have the results before three weeks or so."

"Why does it take so long? What am I going to do? Hell with what I pay for my healthcare you should try to find a way to get it a bit faster!"

"There's another way to study the results, definitely shorter but it's not as effective as the traditional one. It hasn't been proved yet that it really works. We can do both if you want to. Will couldn't come today?"

"I might have not told him…"

"Oh, Karen… He's the father and he has the right to…"

"I know! I know… But, you take care of my baby's health and I take care of my personal life, okay?"

She hadn't wanted to sound mean. Looking up at the ceiling, she swallowed back her tears; then bit her lower lip.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"You're just scared. It's normal."

Sighing heavily, the dark-haired woman stared at the GYN and nodded slowly.

"When can we do it?"

"I have the material here so the sooner the better; for everyone. Do you have any special plan for today?"

Karen shook her head. Her hands were cold and her lips dry. Subconsciously or not, she had stopped making contact with her stomach.

"Then we can do it now. You have to sign the agreement; it's the procedure."

"What kind of risks do I have?"

"Possible complications are like infection of the amniotic sac from the needle, preterm labor and delivery, respiratory distress, postural deformities and rhesus disease… That's why you have to sign the charges before; but those cases are extremely rare. You just have to rest for the rest of the day, not to carry anything too heavy and if you have the slightest doubt… You have my number."

From all the administrative forms she had signed in her whole life, this one was the most difficult to accept. She had been mad at her first husband when he had tended her a prenuptial contract, had been hurt by Stanley's similar decision and felt so awkward before Grace's hiring one but none of them included the weight of a life. She followed Emma and laid down, trying to ignore the size of the needle.

"Oh God…"

The scientist put a warm hand on her forearm and smiled brightly.

"Don't be worried; it doesn't hurt at all. Are you sure you don't want Will to be here?"

"He's busy."

"You should tell him though, you know. Being two will make you bear the wait more easily."

She didn't answer, just looked aside; feigning to be pissed off. But all of a sudden she turned back towards the scientist and frowned.

"What if it turns to be positive? What if the baby has…"

"It's up to you and Will, then. I'm not allowed to influence you in anyway and I would never do that. Some people accept it, others don't…"

"What if it was you?"

Emma looked down, obviously troubled by the question for having a professional oath to respect.

"Where is your cousin Dan, now? Why did you stop seeing him?"

Karen understood immediately the scientist's question, remembering a part of her childhood she had subconsciously forgot; the difficulties of Dan's life, the end.

"He's dead. That's why I didn't happen to see him again. He died when he was eight; lots of troubles and complications I guess."

Emma nodded and cleared her voice to come back to the amniocentesis.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah, well… I'd like to know a last thing before…"

She locked her hazel eyes with the scientist's and asked timidly.

"Is it a girl or a boy?"

The GYN passed a hand through Karen's hair in a reassuring motion.

"It's a girl, Karen."


	40. Days or die

**Days or die**

Karen came back home with the awkwardness of mistakes, when the heart is divided by a fragile sentiment of surviving and the tempting resignation because it might be too late. She was laid on the couch, leafing through a magazine absent-mindedly when Will and Grace rushed in, exhilarated by some news. She smiled timidly, swallowing back the curtain of tears that seemed to insinuate itself in her eyes; then played all along with this odd sentiment that a habit never died.

"We have a surprise for you!"

Grace disappeared in the hallway as Will squatted down next to her, kissing her temple softly before looking back at the door. Both friends couldn't help but shriek as the interior designer came back holding an old crib.

"We found it at the flea market. Do you like it?"

When she was nine years old, Karen had wanted a puppy. After weeks and weeks of pleading eyes, she had managed to get it but as life had gone on, the excitement of the beginning had quickly faded away and she hadn't cared that much about the animal; her mother looking after it in order to fill the space left by her disillusioned promises. In spite of some warnings, she didn't change at all until one morning she woke up and faced its death and all the things she would ever miss. While looking at the crib, so many years later, the dark-haired woman realized all of a sudden that we never paid or gave attention properly to the important aspects of our existence before us loosing them indefinitely. Her hand spread over her stomach and while grinning at her friends, she began to realize the strength of her feelings towards the child she was carrying.

The worst wasn't the wait but the sensation that anyway, it had already been settled down and she was powerless. Her fears pushed her to a state of an extreme happiness and nobody seemed to notice the quick beats of her heart and her constant shaking as soon as the baby kicked, reminding her in spite of her efforts to forget that life went on; no matter how wrong it could be. She started a weird process of rejection towards her own body, barely staring at her image in the mirror, keeping alive day-to-day gestures but with the automatism set off by necessity. She had lost the sparkling touch of pleasure and simply didn't stop breathing for the vague ounce of hope that it might be a nightmare and very soon she would wake up from it. But the days were passing by and she remained in the same state of doubts, hypothesis and crash; angry with herself for having expected Will's request to have a family.

The past sweetness of intimate moments with the attorney had turned into a torture that she dreaded day and night and as soon as his caresses set off a shiver of timid desire, she used to close her eyes and bite the inside of her mouth to prevent from shouting out loud that she didn't have the right to enjoy his presence even though she let him do all along, just to be sure the appearances may remain effective. And it worked out; not that it was really surprising for seeing she had become a master in the art of lying for a couple of decades yet but for actually getting to do it with Will. Love didn't seem to have anything to do then with honesty. It was a sharp remark that hadn't but confirmed the darkness of falsely bright lives.

"Karen, are you going to speak or do you really want me to start arguing?"

She let her nail file fall down on the floor, completely taken aback by Jack's question. She frowned. Ten seconds ago both friends were chatting lightly over Paris Hilton's last scandal and all of a sudden she found herself facing another kind of situation, a lot harder. Her convictions were breaking into pieces, in a very slow motion as if her mind would realize how wrong she could have been until then; how the weight of self-confidence required tact and she had lacked it while being sure that everything was passing unnoticed. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath, adopting a tone of voice she wanted detached.

"What do you want me to talk about?"

"You know you can't fool me unless I accept it just for the fun of it."

She scoffed and looked aside, absorbing the silence of the flat and the guilt weighing a lot on her soul; then bit her lower lip. Before her stubbornness the actor came closer to her and passed an arm around her shoulder.

"There's something wrong with the baby, Jackie…"

She burst into tears at the sound of her own voice; even though it had been a whisper, too scared of the meaning of those words. She felt her friend get tensed, frozen against her.

"What's happening?"

The millionaire shrugged and shook her head. It felt good to speak about it at the end, in spite of everything; all this confusion reigning in her life.

"I got an amniocentesis because the first Down's Syndrome test I had turned out to be positive and I'm actually in a risk category because of my background. One of my cousins suffered from trisomy and… There's also my age…"

"But you're not fifty either!"

Smiling shyly, Karen rolled her eyes and leaned her head against Jack's shoulder.

"There are some risks when you're over thirty-five; which is sad because it's exactly what I turned the last time…"

"Karen, shut up. You're thirty-eight."

She gasped and looked at him in disbelief.

"How the hell did you know about this? Don't tell me…"

"It's not Will. Gosh, you mean that Will knows? Let's just say that I have… Connections."

"Thank you, Don Leone…"

"But as much as you're talented at hiding things, you have to tell that to Will. It's not fair for him; nor for you."

She opened her mouth to reply but the firmness of Jack's voice stopped her immediately.

"And yes this is my business, Karen; because we're talking about the people I love the most in my life. So whenever their interest is in danger, I do feel concerned."

"I can't do that to him, that's all. I can't ruin his dreams to have a family. I don't want to be responsible of that. I wouldn't be able to stand it."


	41. It's like a cloud, so smooth

**It's like a cloud, so smooth**

She knocked at the door and took a deep breath, trying to calm the loud pulsations of her heart caused by some anxiety. A woman in her mid-forty opened then smiled.

"You must be Karen; nice to meet you. I'm Miranda. Come in!"

Biting her lower lip she entered the suburban house, vaguely looking at the bare furniture and the flowers that decorated the living room; the kitchen appearing behind a counter top with all the basics. It was a traditional home, so identical to the series of three-bedroom ones that she had stopped by as a child, in one of those quiet streets lost somewhere near by a big city. She sat down timidly on the couch and waited that her host began to speak. She wasn't comfortable at all in this universe that reminded her of a time she would have loved to draw a line under for the rest of her life.

"Would like some tea or a soda? A hot chocolate may be a better option though seeing how the weather is bad, today."

Instinctively the millionaire turned her face towards the nearest window and realized that it must have been raining for quite a while yet. She hadn't noticed anything while coming over there; way too focused on the reason why she had finally decided to meet Miranda and Brian.

After the conversation she had had with Jack, Karen had asked her mother a whole series of photographs and she had spent a couple of afternoons observing them; not for her own evolution from her birth to her teenager years but for Dan. The last events had provoked an odd reaction in her mind and all of a sudden she didn't want to forget her cousin. She needed to see him, to remember his features and the way he used to smile; some things they may have done together. He was a lovely boy but she wasn't sure if he actually realized the way the others looked at him a bit longer, with a disturbing curiosity before differences.

She hadn't thrown away the piece of paper, just put it in the depths of her purse and stopped thinking about it when her GYN had written down the address and phone number of a woman called Miranda. She was a single mom and her son Brian had Down's Syndrome. It could have been helpful for Karen to meet up with her because nobody but Miranda could better understand the difficulties that the millionaire was facing now.

"Brian is still sleeping; nap time… But then we could go to the park together if you want to."

She nodded but stayed quiet, intimidated by the anonymity of this place and the way it was becoming more and more familiar while the seconds were passing by, a weird closeness that dreadful thoughts seemed to dominate. Miranda smiled brightly and looked down at Karen's stomach.

"You're glowing. What's your secret? I don't know a lot of women who only put on weight at the right place while being pregnant. I'm going to be jealous… When will you get the result?"

"I should have a call in five days or so… Now about putting on weight, it's more about dissimulation. I spend an impressive amount of time looking for the best way to hide the extreme circumference of my hips."

For the very first time she locked her eyes with her host's and both women suddenly burst out laughing; breaking down at last the awkwardness of the beginning.

She didn't know why she had made a step forward. While waking up in the morning, she still wasn't thinking about meeting Brian. It wasn't planned at all but for some reason she had left Manhattan and before realizing it she had found herself knocking at the door of the small house lost in Coney Island.

And now she was there, facing someone who one day had had to face the same decision that she might have to very soon. Miranda had assumed it all along. Was it courage or stubbornness? She wasn't sure. So many questions were twirling in her head right now that it made it all even more confused. She took a sip of tea and looked aside, frowning.

"Does he realize that he's not like the others?"

She had made the first step, daring at last to speak about the reason why she was there. Miranda bit her lips and raised her eyebrows, accepting in silence the sudden turnover of the conversation.

"He's only four years old so he's still very young but it doesn't have to do with the age. We all know instinctively what is different from the 'norm'. The other children stare at him and it takes them some time before daring to go towards him. He got it since the very beginning; as soon as he had to go to the nursery or even to the park. He may not really understand what makes him different but sure he knows he is."

"Is it hard for him?"

"Sometimes, yes; all those gazes weigh a lot on him and the other day he threw a fit because of it. I guess he didn't care that much until now but his conscious is getting maturity and so the consequences begin to light up some aspects of his life that he has never really thought about before. It's going to get worse with the passing of time. He's slower and can't learn as fast as the others. He needs a lot of attention and his health condition isn't the best one. I love him, of course I do but it's a lot of work for a life that isn't even sure to last that long…"

"Then why did you decide to keep him when you got to know the results of the amniocentesis?"

Miranda shrugged while a smile was still lighting up her features. She was strong. Karen felt weak.

"I've been extremely selfish. I know it may sound weird and antithetical but… Even though he's going to know happy moments in his life, he will always have the weight of all the rest on his shoulders, permanently; and that will make him suffer. I decided to give life to him without realizing that this so-called life could turn one day in a pure nightmare for him and for me because it's even more difficult to lose someone after having shared ten years together than nine-months without really knowing each other. We get attached and the more we wait, the more the end will be hard. I thought that maybe he would be like the others and the results had just been wrong or that it wasn't that complicated. I underestimated the situation and I make him pay for it today. This is selfish... What are your opinions about abortion, Karen?"

"I am pro-choice."

"Then you must understand what I'm talking about."

Brian had a thing for Riverside Park so as soon as he woke up and hugged warmly Karen, reminiscences of Dan rushing straight to her heart, they headed to Manhattan so that the boy could enjoy the sun that had finally pierced through the gray clouds of the afternoon.

"He loves flowers, trees and plants. He loves taking care of them. I guess he finds something in them that human beings are unable to bring him. It's another language somehow. He's never happier than when he's here. I wish he could be a gardener…"

"Maybe he will!"

Karen bit the inside of her mouth, apologizing in silence for not having thought twice before speaking. Brian didn't even have a lot of chance to turn ten so planning a future professional career was simply stupid. Miranda smiled, sweeping away the millionaire's tactless comment.

"Ladybugs, Karen! Ladybugs!"

"I guess he wants you to come and see them with him…"

Surprised, the dark-haired woman moved forward slowly and kneeled down next to the little boy, speaking over the soft colors of the insects with him.

He just wanted to have a break and find a way to speak to Karen. As much as he hadn't said a word until then, he knew that something was wrong with the millionaire. She wasn't fine at all and didn't manage to confess herself. His discussion with Jack the day before had only confirmed his suppositions and as he passed the gates of Riverside Park, Will was just looking for the best way to release Karen's heart. At the beginning he thought he had simply mistaken someone but as he came closer, he realized that he was right. The dark-haired woman had kneeled down next to a little boy, in front of a bush. She was looking up at a woman and both seemed to be in the middle of some light conversation. All of a sudden the child turned around and hugged Karen very tight. The attorney smiled as the millionaire almost stumbled backwards before the unexpected demonstration of affection but she responded to it and kissed his forehead, smiling brightly at him. It's when Will realized a lot of things: the boy's condition, Karen's discomfort and silence, her pregnancy, her age. The elements got mixed in his head but after a few seconds his suppositions were there, settled down. The woman next to the millionaire grabbed the kid's hand and waved good-bye.

She didn't know what to think about it. It had been a strange afternoon, so unexpected. Looking up at the sky, she sighed heavily before turning around. Then she saw him, a few feet away from her. Unable to move, she waited for Will to come to her; she felt sorry, and scared, ashamed. The attorney reached her and passed his hand on her cheek, pushing away a strand of hair; then hugged her tight.

"I love you, Kare."

She broke apart and looked aside.

"I won't keep her, Will; if the test turns positive. This isn't a life for anyone."

He nodded quietly as an instinctive wave of warmness spread over his heart before Karen's involuntary confession. So it was a girl.


	42. Naming things

**Naming things**

She took her tea mug and crossed the living room before sitting down on the hardwood floor, leaning against the marble of the fireplace. She loved resting there, observing the flat lit up by the sun or rocked by the rain; how some clothes were hanging loosely on the couch while a pile of magazines were absorbing an invisible dust, engraving the passing of time in silence. She couldn't help but gasp and jump as it rushed in front of her so unexpectedly, putting an instinctive hand over her stomach to reassure the baby. For a couple of seconds, she looked at it in disbelief, vaguely offended by the intrusion as mischievous as its eyes but as the dark-haired woman put her hand on the floor, it timidly moved forward until they finally made contact. The little body was warm against her skin and very soon Karen started caressing it, smiling subconsciously.

"Where is the rest of your family, young one…?"

She lifted it up and winced before putting it against her chest in an urge of affection.

"Young lady; I can't believe you already live on your own… How old are you? You must not be older than five months or so… Are you hungry? Damn there's no milk, I'm so sorry."

Will came in with Grace at this exact moment, carrying big brown bags from the deli. Hearing squeezing noises in a high-pitched tone that could only belong to the millionaire, they automatically looked on their right and frowned, taken aback by the scene. Karen was holding a kitten and the softness of her gestures were sharply contrasting with her usual nasty comments.

"Where did you find it?"

Realizing at last that she wasn't alone anymore, she shrugged with an expression of indifference as if the presence of the cat in her arms was a pure common situation that belonged to her day-to-day life.

"Karen, I thought you wanted to stay here and that's why you didn't come with us in the first place."

"And I didn't move, Gracie. This little beast came right to me a couple of minutes ago. It must have come in by the open window of the kitchen and now it's my new baby: Mrs Peel."

The attorney shook his head, charmed by the easiness with which the millionaire adapted herself to new situations and the insolence of pretension to own every single thing. Putting his brown bag down on the counter top, Will approached Karen and squatted down in front of her, caressing the kitten.

"She's cute, isn't she?"

He nodded; then sighed.

"You can't keep it, Karen. Mrs Peel or whatever her other name is probably belongs to someone in this building. She must have run away and ended here by accident."

"Yeah well keep this bullshit of laws for your clients. She came right to me so she wanted to be here and now she is, I accept her. Her owner, if owner there is, should be punished for not having taken care of her properly. I would never let her escape like that by an open window. Mrs Peel…"

"Karen, she's not yours…"

"Well she may be the only person I will ever have to look after in my whole life so shut up, Will!"

She hadn't meant to sound harsh but it had come out by itself with all the pressure and anxiety that the still unknown results of the amniocentesis had stirred up in her mind, quickly reaching her heart before boiling in her entire body. Her comment slapped him in the face and bounced against her chest. She looked down, ashamed; then cleared her voice and apologized shyly. Grace who had witnessed the scene was staring now at them in disbelief, confused by their words and their reactions. She didn't know anything; Karen had preferred to stay quiet over it and wait for the call before eventually beginning to explain the slightest thing.

The last days had turned into an unbearable nightmare in which every single ringing of the phone set off a whole process of doubts, loud heartbeats, despair and hopes. The worst of all was that as much as she wanted to stand by her pregnancy in her head, nature was doing its work and the baby was growing up slowly, emphasizing her curves and her now evident stomach. She was fighting to keep distance with a fact that inhabited her all the time; a vain battle of feelings over reason.

Will sat down in front of her and caressed her cheek, locking his eyes with hers.

"How about we put some notices in the neighborhood and in the meantime Mrs Peel stays here? If you have no news in a month, then legally you will become her new owner. Are you okay with that?"

Karen nodded slowly and swallowed back her tears, looking down. The kitten had fallen asleep and was now purring against her stomach.

"I'm weak, aren't I?"

She felt his hand stop in the middle of her back, putting an abrupt end to the massage he had been giving her until then. She was laid in bed, on her side, staring blankly at the canvas he had offered her a few months ago. She knew every single detail of it now, every single touch of paint brush and the multitude of colors that, one over another, had created a singular but bewitching result.

"If you were weak, you would have dropped everything out for a very long time. But you're still here. You're not weak or a coward."

She raised her eyebrows, not at all convinced by his words. A truck passed in the street, its lights getting reflected on the wall of the bedroom, penetrating the silent evening sharply.

She knew it was Emma this time. She wouldn't have been able to explain it but as soon as the phone rang, Karen closed her eyes and understood that it would all be settled down tonight. She grabbed the item in a furious movement and bit her lower lip at the sound of the scientist's voice.

"I apologize for calling so late, Karen but I just got the results and I thought you would like to know immediately. I'm just in front of your building, could I come in?"  
Sitting up in bed and putting on her blouse, the millionaire replied by the affirmative; then looked at the attorney, imploring in silence for relief.


	43. All over again

**All over again**

"I'm going to have a girl and everything's fine. She's fine."

Repeating those words in her head for the thousandth time, Karen smiled brightly at her reflection in the mirror of the bathroom. Through the steam let by the water of the shower, her relief was irradiating the flat, warming up her heart. The amniocentesis hadn't revealed anything. Was it a miracle or just a sign? She wouldn't have been able to give an answer, a vague explanation but as soon as the scientist had told her that the tests had turned to be negative, something had been set off in her head and for the very first time the dark-haired woman had realized that she was going to have a child.

She bit her lower lip as Will came in. His hands traveled along her waist and as he began to kiss her neck, the bath towel covering her fell down in silence, lost in her moans and the precipitation of her heartbeats. She closed her eyes, leaned her head backwards against his chest; then passed her fingers through his hair. They needed to breathe, smile and feel light, alive. They had spent the night making love, the heat of each other's body being so reassuring like a good night kiss or a hug in the morning. The urge to get closer had quickly imposed itself after the anxiety of the past weeks and releasing their stress seemed to have found a perfect resonance into having sex.

The attorney sighed against her throat, resigned.

"I'm going to be late, Karen."

"I don't give a flying f…"

Her last and evident word got lost in his mouth as he made her turn around and captured her lips in a sensual kiss.

From then on the millionaire concentrated on her pregnancy, daring at last to push the doors of specialized stores, leaf through parental magazines and witness, a bit disarmed, the impressive amounts of questions rushing to her mind as soon as she learned something new about motherhood. The worst was the labor; such an unknown world she didn't know how to face. It took her long hours of indecision before grabbing the phone and dialing the number. Getting into confession had always been hard for her and so much more when whom she considered as her friends weren't able to help her. She had to turn towards a stranger or at least someone she didn't know very well. She used to say it was because of her pride but deep inside herself, she knew it was more about shyness.

She sat down with awkwardness, trying to concentrate on her hot chocolate but the insistent gaze on the other side of the table was complicating her so-called self-confidence. She cleared her voice and smiled forcefully.

"How are you?"

"I should be the one to ask you that, Karen. You seem fine, though…"

"I am."

She took a sip of her hot beverage and realized that it was going to be even more difficult than what she had previously imagined. She hated so much being weak.

"As a matter of fact I have some questions for you, Marilyn. My mother isn't in New York these days and… Well, my friends simply can't answer to…"

"Your fears, am I wrong?"

The millionaire shrugged. She hadn't been able to name any of her feelings over the blurry aspects of a pregnancy. Wonders, interrogations sounded more reassuring and somehow comforting and certainly not related to any sensation coming from her heart as the word 'fear' supposed. Playing absent-mindedly with her spoon, Karen shook her head. Her gaze was lost in the blank contemplation of the table, halfway between her mind and her lips.

"What if something goes wrong? These things happen; to the mother, to the child… You know, the worst of all is that I'd prefer the baby to die than me. It's not selfish but… At least we would be able to back up each other before such tragedy while if I leave… It's not fair for Will. He doesn't have to face everything on his own, raise our child and all the rest. We're supposed to be two in this story and so loneliness shouldn't have the right to touch us."

"Why would something go wrong? Will called me a couple of days ago and he told me that you were fine; and she was too."

Marilyn pointed at Karen's stomach before smiling at her, pressing her hand in a comforting motion.

"I never had any ultra-sound picture for any of my pregnancies. I never got any test apart from regular blood ones and when I see all the precautions they're taking nowadays before pregnancy, I can assure you Karen that you're way safer than I used to be. You can have an epidural, even a c-section if things get complicated… There's nothing to be worried about. It hurts, yes, but look, we all survive! And we even go at it again so it's not as terrible as it sounds. As a matter of fact, this is just unique. When you held your baby for the first time… Well, you will see what I mean."

Karen looked down and hid her obvious incertitude before the woman's comment. As much as she would have loved to, it was hard to believe her.

"Should I get an epidural?"

"I can't decide for you. I guess there's some risk about it and… Karen, someone is looking at you with insistence."

Frowning, the dark-haired woman turned around as her features adopted a surprising shade.

"What are you doing here, honey?"

The answer to her question found its way through a warm hug, abandoning the idea of using words because when feelings were involved, there wasn't need to speak. She looked up, interrogating silently Miranda. The woman shrugged, a smile of semi-apologies playing on her lips.

"He wanted to see the baby. I guess he misses you."

Karen looked back at Brian and settled him on her knees while he put the palm of his hand on her stomach.

"Is it a ladybug?"

The millionaire couldn't help but laugh then kissed the little boy's head.

"It's a lady, yes."


	44. The Italian Renaissance

**The Italian renaissance**

Her pen rolled on the floor and came to bump into the coffee table, a few inches away from her. Too lazy to actually move to the item, she grabbed a magazine and tried to catch it with it, the pages sweeping the hardwood floor at the same time, making some dust fly in the air. Pen back in hands, her hazel eyes stopped a few seconds on the desk she had bought at an auction sale six months ago. Nobody had ever seen it as something else than a compulsive and ridiculous purchase but she had kept on claiming day after day that she would actually use it. She just hadn't given any precision about the kind of work she would do on it and now a dozen of nail varnish bottles were sagely waiting in line for her next manicure while a pile of books served as a promontory to an old and empty vase. She frowned, pushing aside her evident inclination for mess or as she preferred to name it, deviation of original use, and came back to the sheet of paper resting on her knees. There was nothing like being sat on the floor, anyway.  
Entering the flat by the open kitchen window leading to the fire escape where he had previously given a call, Will smiled, a bit lost before Karen's persistence on sitting right on the floor.

"Why did you buy chairs in the first place if you never use them?"

Without looking at him, the millionaire stayed concentrated on her mysterious activities and vaguely mumbled.

"I assume most of people coming over here have a thing for cushions and couches… See, I happen to think about what matters to the others, isn't that crazy?"

Without saying a word, the attorney headed to the room that served as Karen's closet.

"Where are you going, Wilma? This is zone 51 out there."

"I want to iron some clothes I need to wear on Monday and as Grace made our iron burn, I'm going to use yours."

"She made it burn? God, she's as talented as me…"

Opening the actual closet that only contained the millionaire's tops and coats, Will squatted down and proceeded to grab the iron when a cardboard box fell down next to him; revealing a series of sketches, charcoal engraving the delicate lines of an angel. The evolution between every single sheet of paper was easy to follow; how the precision on the hands had led the artist to work harder on the smallest details like the singular paths of some veins. Pushed by a growing curiosity, he sat down on the floor and went frankly through the box, taking old notebooks out of it with Karen's handwriting on them; descriptions and analyzes of supports he didn't really understand. The words 'grace' and 'purity' seemed to come back very often through her notes like a whole series of incomprehensible terms that he assumed belonging to painting.

And then it appeared; on a small and shy canvas. It was glowing in a pale shade of blue and white, with golden eyes. It was beautiful. A bit confused, Will cleared his voice and called for Karen who, after a vague protestation, finally made her way to him. She stopped though as the evidence of the attorney's request appeared silently in front of her.

"Where did you find that?"

"It was in this cardboard box that literally fell on me when I took the iron and… Karen, are these yours?"

With the most indifferent tone, the dark-haired woman nodded and sat down next to him.

"Yes, they are. I studied History of Art in college."

"I didn't know you went to college…"

"Then now you do; big deal… This was my project for a Master's Degree. I was doing some research about the humanization of angels during the Italian Renaissance. I was in Firenze by then…"

"You were in Italy?"

"Yes; just before meeting Stanley… Oh God, I can't believe I kept that."

She seemed to have forgotten about her hesitations and timidity; smiling now at the reminiscence that all the sketches were bringing back to her heart.

"You're talented. They are good."

"Oh Will, you're so not biased… You sleep with the 'artist' so your opinion is, of course, completely false. I had a thing for charcoal because its abruptness was more realistic but… No, I have no talent at all."

"Well I do love them… How about we hang them on the walls of this room?"

The millionaire scoffed before the absurdity of the request.

"Have you lost your mind? If I want some pieces of art here I will buy real ones; not amateur's waste of time and canvas…"

"Then can I take them with me and put them in my own bedroom?"

"What do you want to do with them, open a gallery? They're really bad, Will. It's even shameful. I should just throw them away. Besides you almost live here so there's no need to invade Grace with bad taste. The poor girl has enough to deal with that for the moment."

She had needed to end up her sentence with a touch of cruel and superficial humor for having dared to highlight some facts none of them used to speak about; the status of their relationship. She loved him; he loved her. That was all they knew. For some reason they didn't try to think about the future, the day they would be a family. Will was still living with Grace a couple of streets farer and even though he spent four nights or so with Karen, an eventual moving hadn't been said out loud yet.

She leaned over and kissed him softly; then smiled at him while caressing his cheek.

"You can take them if you really want to; if you're happy then…"

She stood up and left, coming back to the drawing she had been working on previously. She stopped by the window though and leaned against it, looking down at the quiet street. Her heart began to beat faster and she swallowed back her tears. The worst of all was that she dreaded so much the moment he would dare to ask to move in. How would she be able to say that it was not what she really wanted?


	45. The day I left

**The day I left**

It was so small, a purple piece of fabric vaguely larger than a book. If she unfolded the long sleeves, it covered the surface of some magazine but nothing more. She could barely believe that someone could actually fit in this kimono top; apart from Mrs Peel, perhaps. If her sweet wonders seemed to win over her sense of proportion, she was sure of one thing: she would keep the piece of clothing forever; no matter if Grace might need it one day and her own daughter would only be able to wear it for a short while. When time had arrived, she would fold it carefully and put it down in her closet or in a cardboard box on which she would have written the word 'souvenir'.

She hadn't planned to go on some precise shopping spree that afternoon, even less stop by this kind of cheap store but something had pushed her to and before realizing it, Karen had found herself at the cashier desk, paying for a five-dollar kimono top as the first clothes ever for the little girl she would give birth to in a few months. It had been nothing special, a classic cotton shirt that nonetheless resulted cute and made your heart melt at the first gaze; for being so small, so fragile but present and visible yet, exactly like a baby. They looked so tiny, so vulnerable and it was hard to imagine that they would ever be able to face any kind of reality without breaking into pieces. That must be how the strong sentiment of protection set off in parents' hearts. The dark-haired woman smiled before the idea she might actually have been changing for quite a while now; this pregnancy was stirring up a part of her mind she had never got to know until then.

"Oh my God, this is so cute…"

Grace literally shrieked and sat down on the couch next to Karen, grabbing the small kimono in her hands. A silly smile was playing on her lips as a whole series of strange sounds seemed to have definitely replaced her capacity to use proper English. A bit embarrassed by the profusion of emotions, the millionaire shrugged. She didn't know what to say, what kind of reply give to her friend. Speaking about babies didn't at all belong to her usual subjects of conversation for being intimate and making her look weak, a bit sentimental; and she hated it. The interior designer had a look at the label and couldn't help but frown, surprised by the provenance of the top. A shade of amusement began to sparkle in her eyes.

"I didn't know you actually dared to push the doors of H&M, Karen…"

The comment didn't help the millionaire at all to find a vague comfort before the way the situation was turning, her obvious embarrassment reaching the baby who started moving; asking for some relief.

"Hormones can make you do weird and unexpected things."

She bit the inside of her mouth, swearing against herself for such a ridiculous and lame explanation, so cliché. Grace smiled but didn't insist, nodding in silence then changing the discussion.

"So when does Will move in here with you?"

For a couple of seconds Karen thought about going back to the baby talk that was definitely easier to lead than this blurry aspect of her life. She swallowed hard, wondering if it had to be a better thing that the question had been highlighted by Grace than Will in person. Perhaps her friend's opinion would comfort her silent wish in spite of the horrible shades it seemed to bring with itself; at least it was what she thought so whenever she faced it.

"We haven't spoken about any reunion yet."

"You call it 'reunion'? This is not a slumber party between colleagues, Karen. I wonder what you're waiting for though… You're having a baby together with obvious feelings involved. Will spends four nights or so with you here unless you're the one who stays at home… Why don't you move together?"

"We're back from the day of the plane crash and this vital need to be permanently together, Grace. I enjoy being with him as much as I enjoy being with Jack and you, even though alcohol makes it more easily bearable but… I don't feel like being around Will 24 hours a day. And I'm sure he does share my opinion about it."

"What do you mean? You're not just a couple; you're having a family. This supposes a different way of life and changes."

"I don't want it to change. I'm fine with the way things are right now and I guess Will agrees with me. There must be a reason why we have never talked about an eventual moving together, you know."

"Damn think about your child! You can't make her live a divorce situation and prevent her from seeing her father."

"I don't want to. She will be free to see Will as much as she wants, and vice-versa. I don't mind him to spend a whole week here with me and then head for a couple of nights with you; on the contrary. As long as the concerned people are happy, I have nothing to say."

"I don't understand… What kind of life is it? It's so odd and… I don't know. It might not be good for your daughter."

"Traditional schemes are still waiting for a universal approving that will discard any suffering. I love Will; he loves me. That's extremely clear between the two of us…"

"Then where is the problem?"

"I accepted to have a child with him but certainly not to marry him or have to assume similar clauses… You know, the day I left home when I was sixteen, I was actually trying to escape from my mother's clutches and all I was dreaming about was getting my independence but what did I do?"

"You got married."

Karen nodded as the bitterness of an old regret she had tried to burry throughout the years was slowly making its way to the surface.

"I chose the exact opposite and drew a line under my dreams. Small wonder why it always ended up with a divorce… And now that I have finally reached what I had always looked for, there's no way I want ruin it. I love what I have now; I love Will. But I reject the idea of making it all conventional; because then I know I will lose him."


	46. When the sun rises

**When the sun rises**

The night had been short, again. Her eyes were heavy and hot, barely accepting the pale light of the day while the muscles of her arms seemed to wake up all of a sudden in a very painful way. It was the third time in a row and the lack of sleep was beginning to weigh a lot. She was exhausted. She wouldn't have been able to give an effective reason to her insomnia, if something had stirred up the whole process that would block the slightest entrance to her dreams or if it was just a whim from her mind; an old trick to evaluate her resistance before an invisible night. She had stopped staying home then in order to rest because once the sun had risen, she found herself into the total incapacity of getting some sleep; no matter she had only closed her eyes for a couple of hours, once the moon had vanished from the sky, she was wide awake and that until the night.

For a long period she had invaded the city by night, absorbing the artificial lights and the so peculiar life that used to set off once a curtain of darkness had invaded the sky. She wandered from bar to bar, from party to party where anonymity flirted with the appealing danger of the unknown and this terrible urge to feel like being observed, contemplated and desired. She had loved the high personalities she crossed by then, people who seemed to put on a mask during the day and let the truth of their hearts show up unexpectedly; it was the magic of the night when inhibitions slowly faded away with a sparkly shade of relief. She had come back home a lot of times in the first hours of the morning but always too drunk, too high or simply too tired to notice the slightest thing. Since her insomnia had started and because of her pregnancy, she had got wrapped by the habit to sit down on an armchair, pushed against a window and she stared then at the street and New York waking up slowly.

As much as a whole series of events used to happen just below, in front of her building, her eyes always ended up being clutched to the sky and how the subtle blue of the night suddenly got clearer; the sun embracing the moon in an impossible reunion as pink shades of clouds witnessed the astral love with the softness of a dream that would never come true. On her third sleepless night morning, while enjoying the warm sensation of living a new day from its very beginning, she turned around and stopped her gaze over the charcoal sketches. Will still wanted to take them with him but for some reason had left them there, leaned against the counter of the kitchen. She could notice within a second the awkwardness of the novice; the thick lines, reducing to silence and mere fantasy the delicacy of the angel. This one almost looked strong, as if he had lost his purity under her touch. She looked down and smiled, wondering if she had lost the premises of drawing. People used to say she was talented, mostly her mother since the day Karen had won some competition in Long Island; she was five. But maybe because she actually loved art, she knew it was just admiration from a bunch of people, completely subjective for loving the little girl she was by then.

Before even realizing it, the dark-haired woman had grabbed an old piece of charcoal and was now lost in the depths of a sheet of paper, halfway between incomprehension and the reminiscence of an emotion she had thought fictive for belonging to a past too blurry.

"It's always nice when you actually stop by the office, Karen. I'm thinking about getting you some reward."

Vaguely breathless; the millionaire let herself literally fall down on her chair; then tried to manipulate her friend showing in a fake innocence her stomach. People could forgive anything to a woman who was expecting a baby; everybody but Grace who simply rolled her eyes in front of her assistant's thousandth vain attempt to make her feel pity for absolutely no reason.

"Here is the mail I want you to send; and call a courier please. I have an important letter to deliver to the bank."

Karen made a face but nonetheless grabbed the envelops. She hated being in charge of the mail when nothing interesting had to be read in it. But a sudden gasp from the red-haired woman made her frown and look up at her, confused.

"Damn what have you done with your hands? They're all black. I thought I would never have to say that but… You need a manicure, Karen."

Immediately her hazel eyes stared at her fingers. She had left in a hurry and completely forgotten to wash her hands. The piece of charcoal had melt under the heat of her skin, impregnating her fingertips. She stood up, giggling nervously.

"Come on it's just some carbon."

Grace looked at her in disbelief as she stepped out of the office, heading straight to the restroom to wash her hands properly.

"And may I know the reason why you are manipulating carbon? I didn't know you had installed a whole laboratory in your two-bedroom flat."

"Call it a workshop. This is more what it's supposed to be."

"Oh my God, have you started painting the baby room?"

The millionaire frowned and shook her head, looking at Grace as if she had lost her common sense.

"Do you really think I would paint a room? Honey I hire for this kind of things. Besides what kind of person would paint a nursery with carbon? As much as I love them, I don't belong to the Addams family…"

"Then why did you use carbon?"

Karen shrugged and tried to hide the wave of timidity that had suddenly set off before the slightest idea of confessing something.

"It's charcoal. As I didn't get to fall back asleep at four in the morning, I got up and began to draw. That's all."

"You're having insomnia? Damn but stay at home, then. There's no need to come here and feel even more tired. Seeing how productive you usually are, I'm sure I could handle a day or two without you at the office."

"I appreciate it but I prefer to come over here. Anyway I don't get to fall back asleep as soon as the sun rises so…"

"Then go to sit down and have a rest here. This is not good for the baby… Does Will know about it?"

Karen scoffed, scandalized by the interior designer's question.

"Hell he's not my mother, Grace! There's no need I tell him about it. I know what his reaction will be. We will go straight to the doctor's and he will be the one who will leave then with tranquilizers. It's okay; I'm fine. When I'm tired enough, I'll fall asleep right away. Don't be worried."

A sudden and violent pain ran through her lower back. Surprised, Karen bent over, closing her eyes, clenching her fists.

"Oh God, what's happening?"

Swallowing hard, the millionaire came back slowly to the office and sat down with care on her chair. She was shaking, her heart beating so loud in her chest that she could almost have sworn that her top was actually moving under her cardiac rhythm. Her mouth was dry and a bump seemed to spread on her throat as the tears welled up in her eyes. Grace had squatted down next to her, a protective and concerned hand on her arm.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded quietly, trying to smile reassuringly at her friend but the truth was that she had been scared for the contraction being so unexpected and carrying on evident reasons.

"Maybe it would be better if I laid on the couch here and had a rest…"

As she did, she tried to remember the colors of the sky in the early hours of the morning, how the sun used to rise in a silent harmony; because she would probably not see it again that soon. The next time she would find herself before the incapacity to fall asleep, she would nonetheless keep her eyes closed and stay in bed. Her child required peace.


	47. Hold on a second

**Hold on a second**

The first time she had seen him, she had been seduced by his natural elegance; the way he used to smile and look at you with insistence, not at all afraid of having to face your own gaze. He carried on this self-confidence that was typical from lawyers but combined with his delicate features, it simply sounded fair, logical and charming. He dated men; she was married. She had turned her frustration over a constant teasing, wishing nonetheless nothing but having the right to taste his lips and the softness of his kiss; just to see. But the day she finally got it, Karen found herself in front of the incapacity to stop. She needed to let her hands run on his shoulders, caress his back and feel the heat of his skin against her palms. She wanted him, for some reason; a strong whim before forbidden things. She cherished his waist trapped between her legs and the thrusts of his hips as he sighed and savored her neck in a bold kiss.

She assimilated him to sexual pleasures; perhaps because it was how everything had started between the two of them, a sort of effusion to release a too long contained tension and whenever she saw him, she felt like having her way immediately. Feelings were involved and had probably always been but she couldn't help it in spite of the quiet sentiment of shame it had stirred up since she had learned about her pregnancy. She should be able to consider him as the father of her child and the man she loved, just that. But she had forgotten about romanticism for a very long while, making her anger towards herself grow even faster. Sometimes she thought that people were right and she was just a cold hearted bitch who didn't care at all about what the others could feel.

She leaned her head backwards and bit her lower lip as his ministrations on her were getting bolder and bolder with the seconds passing by. His hand was now travelling on her inner thigh and she was kissing him hungrily when all of a sudden she pushed him away, breathless and sorry while Will was obviously confused. She sat up in bed and stared blankly at the doors of her closet in front of her. They had left a light on, reflecting their shadows on the walls, spreading their embrace to the ceiling while their subtle moans seemed to vanish in the quietness of the night. Karen shivered, suddenly cold. She was missing his body on hers and the fusion of their skin producing an invisible wave of heat. She had broken it unexpectedly, within a second; under the strength of a single push towards her soul. She shook her head then looked down, ashamed.

"I'm sorry."

Not knowing how to react, the attorney didn't move but frown.

"Did I hurt you or something? I'm sorry I didn't want to…"

"No, you didn't. It's me, that's all. I'm… I'm just awful with you; with everyone."

"Karen, what are you talking about?"

She grabbed the jumper she had previously taken off of him and put it on, closing the way to any further intimate touch. She shrugged, avoiding Will's gaze all along.

"I'm just a horrible person. You're nice with me and… We're going to have a child together but all I'm thinking about is… Damn I swear I love you, Will. I love you so much, honey…"

She turned and finally faced him, swallowing back her tears that made her eyes sparkle in the pale shades of the lamp. She looked desperate, livid and torn before incomprehensible feelings. Very slowly his hand came to caress her cheek but she simply shook her head.

"You don't understand, honey. I'm selfish. I might have the right to take decisions when it comes to my life but lately I have crossed the lines. I made choices about your own life and our daughter's too just because of a ridiculous whim and self-centered idea. This is shameful… Grace asked me when you would move in with me and do you know what I replied? I said that I didn't want to."

The silence that followed Karen's last sentence got her blood icy and she felt like running away, leaving the country and never coming back; unless she could have died, just that.

"I like the way things are right now; that's why I said to Grace that I wasn't wishing for any specific change. But I have never cared about what you could think about it; if you had another opinion because after all, it's the future of three people we're talking about and I don't have the right to decide for everyone, especially when it's so extreme. So do you want to move in with me? I'm afraid I won't be very good at it; and I'm so scared it could put an end to our story…"

She closed her eyes as his hand slid on her waist and he kissed her temple softly before locking his eyes with hers.

"I'm not going to say it because of what you just told me but I also do like the way it is right now. So how about we just enjoy it and see what happens next? Don't think that much about it, Kare; and let it go on by itself."

She looked at him, studying the color of his pupils in which a subtle shade of green seemed to embrace the visible brown. She would have loved to feel relieved and nod at him but to be honest and in spite of what he had just said, she couldn't believe him. She leaned over and kissed him deeply; then broke apart.

"You're an angel, Will; my little falling angel..."


	48. It may be time

**It may be time**

Her life was turning into a ritual of actions that she started enjoying a lot. From the softness of her morning tea to the quietness of the street when she turned off the lights in the evening, Karen had finally found the balance of a routine she had been missing for so long in the first years of her existence when her mother used to drag her throughout the whole country and even above if the financial reward was important enough to. She had grown up and got married but her bases had been damaged, spoiled, and she had set off her new life over wrong ideas; her constant moving had just been replaced by other lacks of stability. But it had changed and now she was learning little by little about the comfort of a secure and peaceful daily routine rocked by the horns of the cars trapped in the early traffic; the smell of coffee escaping from a corner store mixed with the heat of the fresh bagels and millions of sounds that joined each other, formed the uniqueness of New York.

She took a week off, pretending to be tired while she actually didn't stop at all; preparing in silence what her heart had been claiming for. She went to Brooklyn and spent an impressive amount of time in front of the infinite rows of rainbows at a store lost in Harlem. It was hard to consider the metallic shades on a wall, surrounding you in the most common and logical motion while the fabric-style of their original place only brought an unfriendly sentiment to your soul. It's probably why she finally left without any specific purchase but a series of white canvas and a bunch of charcoals while she had obviously gone there for some paint. She had no particular idea about what she really wanted anyway; the furniture, the dominant colors. Everything remained so far and blurry that she was almost feeling despair invading her mind, and guilt. Shouldn't she be having recurrent dreams about it? When she looked at herself in the mirror, all she could read on her face was that she had to do it and it had nothing to do with being thrilled. It was a pure necessity before the passing of time; then she always ended up wondering if she would ever have any maternal feelings towards her unborn child.

It came out on the third day while the hardwood floor was littered by an impressive amount of items that she was incapable to name properly and only had a vague idea about their actual use. All of a sudden while observing with anxious eyes the picture of the result she was supposed to get to, the dark-haired woman burst out laughing and looked around. It was a mess but she loved it more than anything. Passing a hand on her stomach, she bit her lower lip and felt how a wave of determination was rushing to her heart. Then, proudly, she stood up and headed to the kitchen to brew some tea. It was all clear now and there was nothing better than to know what she really wanted. Her hazel eyes began to sparkle again, like in the old times when her charismatic self-confidence imposed a curtain of certainty over her slightest gesture. As fragile as it was, the sentiment was comforting and warm.

She finished it twenty minutes before them arriving. With a furtive and appreciative glance, she rushed to the bathroom to have a shower and get ready. It had to be perfect, exactly like the results of her constant and secret efforts all along the week. They passed through the door and she couldn't help but grin, hiding her excitement with difficulty. She hadn't wanted to see any of them during the seven consecutive days. Besides the surprise she wanted to give them, her concentration was such that she had had no time to have a break and even less felt like to. She had lived like a hermit, pushed by the naissance of a maternal instinct and while seeing her friends now, she realized that she had missed them a lot. It hadn't crossed her mind until then but now she was taking a step backwards with an observer's eye, the evidence was bright. She led them immediately to the door and opened it in a majestic and dramatic movement.

She hadn't painted the walls and left them in a white tone. The furniture were made of a pale wood, extremely clear and pure; a couple of shelves, a baby changing table, a rocking chair and the little purple kimono top she had hung up against the closet, just to match with the rest. She hadn't bought any toys yet, any baby bottles. It was all empty, waiting sagely for the next move. Grace and Jack barely saw them but of course Will didn't miss anything and he went straight to the series of canvas installed all along the walls, forming a perfect line. The gesture had more self-confidence unless it was maturity but there was still clearly Karen's signature in them. For someone who had happened to see her angels, it was obviously hers even though this time she had drawn houses; each one with a particular architecture from Georgian to Victorian, passing by a Spanish one. The attorney, very soon joined by Jack and Grace, looked at the millionaire with confusion but before they had a chance to ask anything, she shrugged.

"I'm not good at angels. These are some of the houses I lived in during my childhood. I have no pictures of them, this is just a souvenir lost somewhere in my head. They represent the hopes I was clutched to by then to have a decent and balanced way of life. They're the symbol of family spirit and stability."

Astonished before the idea of Karen being a crafty person, the interior designer glanced at Will; then frowned. He was smiling peacefully, not at all surprised by the millionaire's revelation about her artistic behavior. Grace sighed.

"Damn, what kind of other things do you two hide from Jack and me? Firstly a baby and now Karen you tell us that you can draw? Don't lie, Will. It's written all over your face; you already knew about it."

"But I certainly didn't know a thing about the room and the fact she was actually decorating it…"

Timidly, the dark-haired woman looked at Will; hoping he wouldn't mind her having taken another decision without consulting him before.

"Do you like it? I didn't want anything too girlie… Neutral colors are more welcoming and clear anyway, aren't they?"

Scanning the room, the attorney nodded and smiled; then grabbed her shoulders and planted a kiss on her temple.

"I love it. Obviously you have some talent at interior designing, who would have guessed it?"

Grace raised her eyebrows, still astonished.

"Well certainly not me."


	49. A pirate dream

**A pirate dream**

From time to time on Saturday, Karen went to the park with Brian. She could have taken her distance with the little boy once the results of her amniocentesis hadn't revealed anything and put in parenthesis her visit to Miranda but something had pushed her to keep on seeing them; perhaps the sentiment to be connected in spite of all, hypothesis being as strong as certitudes sometimes. Brian was nice and extremely sweet. He used to move on with care as if the whole world was made of porcelain and the slightest abrupt movement could break everything into pieces. He was a good observer and seemed to find out in the smallest details the innocence that made life brighter, unique and subtle. He didn't know the name of the flowers and could call a fly a ladybug but deep inside herself, the dark-haired woman was certain that he still could note the difference. The name simply didn't matter to him; there was another distinction that only his mind was capable of making.

The winter was coming slowly and the cold breeze of the morning found its reflection into an icy wind in the afternoon and huddled up against herself in her coat, Karen nonetheless kept on smiling at Brian; her eyes wide opened before the boy's obvious joy to be outside in Riverside Park. When heavy clouds hid the pale sun, she wondered if he ever felt the differences of temperatures because in spite of his red cheeks, he didn't seem to notice anything at all and was still focalized on the microcosm living at people's feet. Because of the evolution of her pregnancy, the millionaire could barely squat down now without dreading the fact she wouldn't be able to stand back on her feet by herself so she carefully stayed up on her feet, observing Brian from the heights of her high heels. A month or so after their first walk to the green area, Miranda had decided to leave her son and Karen alone; enjoying a couple of hours on her own in Manhattan. While he usually had a lot of difficulties to accept the presence of strangers around him, for some reason the boy had immediately had a thing for the dark-haired woman; besides she knew how to react and behave with him. After so many years of special need educator, Brian's mother could easily confirm that Karen was naturally skilled. This remark would have surprised a lot of people for not saying everyone but far from the boiling socialite life, the millionaire allowed herself to weaken her guard.

Her favorite moment was definitely when they both pushed the door of a coffee store and she could feel the heat of the place embrace her whole body all of a sudden. Blood seemed to run again in her veins and the lost sensation in her fingers and tiptoes sent millions of message alerts to her brain, just in order to reassure her mind and tell her she was still alive. Then they always sat near the window, on red velvet couches while the smell of hot chocolate and delicious pastries went dizzily to their heads. Her eyes were always sparkling when she looked at Brian and she couldn't help but smile at him. He reminded her of Dan, a lot; too much perhaps. While the days were passing by and she learned to know about Miranda's son, her heart started concentrating on odd fantasies about this cousin she hadn't had enough time to live with properly. She kept on wondering what kind of adult he would have been if he hadn't died so early; if he would have had a job or used to have some dreams, some hobbies as a child. He liked baseball. She remembered him wearing a baseball cap unless it was the only image she had been able to keep alive in her mind and it had quickly turned into a stupid but permanent cliché.  
After numerous and vain investigations on her own, she finally decided to move on and found herself one evening knocking at her door while a wave of bitterness was flirting disgustingly with sadness. If she was surprised by Karen's visit, she didn't show it at all and opened the door so that the millionaire might come in. Her hazel eyes scanned the living room with the awkwardness of the first time, halfway between the timidity stirred up by the novelty and the sequels to the encounter mixed with her previous fantasies. It was small and dark; just functional. Nothing had been hung up on the wall and if not for a purse resting on the coffee table, you could have taken it for a cheap and rickety motel exactly like the ones she had got to know as a child. She sat down on the couch and stared at her mother; then sighed. There were way too many things left behind for making peace right now and forgive; just forgive.

"How are you doing?"

Nodding in silence, Karen swallowed back a wave of tears. Her anger was still burning and she could barely accept the slightest sign of so-called care that Lois pretended to have towards her. For a whole decade she hadn't tried to get in touch with her; not even a call or a letter, absolutely nothing while she was still a minor at the beginning of this shameful story.

"When are you due again?"

"It's supposed to be in January, around the 6th."

Lois smiled but the silence that embraced every connection between her questions and Karen's replies was clear enough to understand that she was far from being comfortable. She simply dreaded her daughter, afraid that the slightest word would set off another argument because whatever she did, it always ended up that way.

"Would you like to have a drink or something?"

"No, I'm fine; thank you. Listen… I'm not here to fight, I'm too tired for that and honestly, there's no point. I just… Do you remember Dan? I mean my cousin, Angela's son."

Karen's mother took a deep breath and narrowed her eyes, a bit confused. This was the second time that her daughter came over at her place to have more details about her sister's late son.

"Of course, I do. He was a lovely boy; a bit too sick, too weak. That's why he passed away so young."

"Did I get on well with him? What did we use to do together? I have forgotten everything…"

"You pretended to be pirates. Well, he said he was one and you were some Spanish general's daughter he had kidnapped and together you climbed into an invisible ship to go all around the world; and you were happy. Your name was Paolina; he was James."

At the call of the Spanish first name, Karen couldn't help but gasp, taken away by the warmness of a blue blanket and an old tree lost in the backyard of a suburban house. The sun was always shining high and her skin being so pale, she had to wear long sleeves all day long not to burn and end up sick as it had happened once in Greece. Looking at nothing in particular but her own thoughts, she heard herself speak softly.

"We pretended that a blue blanket was actually the sea, didn't we? And he always gave me his strawberry cheesecake slice because I was so hungry."

Lois smiled and began to relax; even appreciate the sight of her daughter being so calm and happy.

"Yes, you did. See, you remember it. Angela lives in Argentina now though we haven't had any news for a very long time. She had filmed some of your games, you know; way back when she lived in Missouri and you spent the summer out there. She might still have the videos."

Karen opened her mouth to reply but the effusion and excitement that such an offer had provoked was already leaving away in a whirl of doubts and protection. She shook her head.

"No, I guess I prefer to keep on with my own memories, the ones my mind decided not to erase…"

Besides she was afraid that while watching Dan and her on a screen she would ruin the perfection of her burning and hopeful fantasies.

"Why is Dan so present in your mind lately? Is anything wrong with the baby?"

"No, she's fine. The results of the amniocentesis came back clear. I just… I have met someone who reminds me a lot of him but I'm not Paolina now; just a wonderfully swollen ladybug; his ladybug."


	50. A circular vision

**A circular vision**

The warm sensation had contrasted with the coldness of the air sharply; stirring up a whole wave of panic and invisible pain. It had slowly run along her legs, caressing her knees like a poison embracing a throat before insinuating its demons all over the body. She had stopped walking, people bumping into her on the sidewalk because of her abrupt change of mind and she had stayed there, looking at them blankly, not knowing what to do. Her brain cells were boiling in an ineffective effervescence. The world had kept on turning, completely unaware of the fact that one of its inhabitants had ceased to go on and needed help. All she could have said was that she had been scared; that her heart was pounding so loud in her chest that every time her skin got tensed, she had thought it would cross her body and fall down on the asphalt. Then someone would simply walk over it, by accident; for being so blind and incapable of realizing her silent distress. Perhaps an automatic reflex had finally taken possession of her useless person and that's why she had managed to stop by the closest hospital she had found; on her own, lost in the selfishness of a city that had suddenly turned into an immense labyrinth of darkness.

She hadn't wanted to call anyone, especially not Will. She knew him too well to do such a thing and set off then a real plan of anxiety from the attorney. He was a nervous wreck; she might have been one too but she kept it to herself and pretended to be cool. When the doctors had refused to let her go, she had bitten her lower lip and reluctantly dialed his number. For a moment she had thought that a phone call to Jack was a better idea, safer even. But very soon she had realized that any of her friends would get worried anyway and would end up calling each other. They were too close to keep this kind of thing to themselves. Against all expectations, Will did rush in but not at all panicked. He had kept on smiling the whole time, holding her hand tightly and playing the card of the perfect husband for her highest exasperation. The whole scene had sounded ridiculous but had had at least the credit to relieve her a little, slowly forgetting her previous panic as she had begun to bleed in the middle of Madison Avenue. She had thought herself discarded of any argument or responsible speech from the attorney but as soon as she found the warmness of her flat and the quietness of the place, Will's words had hit her right away and she had listened to him in silence, nodding from time to time just to please him and confirm that he was right.

She needed a break, had to slow down and rest. It had been a false alert but still a sign that her way of life wasn't appropriated anymore to the last semester of her pregnancy. And now she had to stay there, in bed, all day long; doing nothing but let her eyes go from right to left, then from left to right and sometimes she looked at the ceiling, just for a change… She was bored and had reached such a degree of frustration that even fashion magazines couldn't ease the situation and make it all smoother. She remembered a time when she loved spending a large amount of hours in bed but as soon as it had turned into an obligation and not a mere leisure, her perspectives had taken another dimension and she felt trapped in an old dream that would have changed with the wind and become her worst nightmare. Jack tried to stop by as often as he could but in front of the millionaire's obvious lack of real interest in his visits were slowly getting the shades of Chinese tortures. The days passed by and Karen lost her smile; her eyes buried their sparkling note and the sharpness of her words only reflected the sadness of her soul.

"I hate it. I hate this baby."

Jack laughed and lay down next to her, huddling against her back; caressing her hair.

"What will it be when she starts teething?"

The dark-haired woman turned around to face her friend as some tears began to well up in her eyes. She was emotionally exhausted and missed New York a lot; all the decorations for Thanksgiving and the chilling air blowing over the city, announcing the magic of Christmas, the multicolored lights and the grandiose tree over the ice rink. All she was allowed to contemplate was the whiteness of the ceiling and the pictures of aenorexic models in magazines.

"That's why Will is there, honey. Right now I'm the only one who has to deal with the effects of pregnancy. Then the father will pay for it; you can believe me. He wants a child, he's going to get one."

Sweeping away a tear, Karen sighed heavily; then shrugged before finally bursting into tears. Between two sobs against Jack's shoulder, her voice seemed all shaky, unsure and weak.

"And I can't even have sex anymore! This is the end, Jackie…"

Her last comment took the actor aback and he couldn't help but giggle.

"Hell this is not funny, Jack!"

"How come you can't have sex anymore? I thought you were always turned on."

"It could set off the labor… I have to wait for my next appointment with Emma to know if I can finally come back to a healthy life."

"Then I'm sure your sudden abstinence won't last that long. But please, no more details about it. I don't want to picture you sleeping with Will. It's… Well, this is not right at all for me."

"Since when are you disgusted by sex?"

"I am not. I just don't want to have images of two friends going at it; especially since one of them is gay and the other is… Well, you."

The least she could say was that she was surprised by Jack. He had always wanted to know everything about her life, even the smallest and creepy details that so many people never dare to ask about, for them being so private. She frowned before the unexpected turn of the events and her friend's obvious embarrassment.

"Is there something you don't like about the fact I do sleep with Will? Does it bother you, honey?"

"No, it doesn't. I even prefer you to be with him; I know he's nice and will always take care of you but… I don't know… It's just so weird; the whole thing, I mean… Kare, what did you feel the first time you kissed him? I don't want a physical explanation. I'm speaking about your sentiments. You know, those things you keep so secret and safe in your heart; all hidden behind your awesome pride."

The millionaire smiled timidly and bit her lower lip as her mind left for an ocean of old memories that had never really disappeared and, she hoped would never do.

"I just felt like he was giving life back to me."

She couldn't help but blush as a wave of warmness invaded her body and the next time she happened to look at the ceiling, it seemed that the whiteness wasn't that tern; just bright and soft, perfect.


	51. Looking for a family spirit

**Looking for a family spirit**

It was a subtle fusion of smells and feelings; the excitement before the annual reunion and the strength of a silent love, a precious one. Children used to say that it was boring and adults only shrugged, resigned before it. But in the most sincere motion, everybody loved Thanksgiving. Once Karen hadn't had the chance to celebrate it for being in Scotland; trapped in one of her mother's numerous whims. She had missed the effervescence of the big days and the impressive amount of dishes on the table as if people had finally discovered the existence of food. She had focalized on every single detail of it all day long while the gray sky of November in The Old Continent had embraced her blue mood in a harsh silence. Of course she would have never confessed it; her persona didn't match with the sweetness of some warm feelings but deep inside herself, she gave a lot of attention to Thanksgiving. She had simply realized, while being so far from her native country, how the importance of things could be fragile and invisible. And once you lost it, it hit you sharply; but it was too late and you couldn't but mourn it for not having been able to appreciate it properly when you still had the opportunity to.

She passed her hand over her dress and smiled at her reflection in the mirror to give herself some courage but it didn't work that much and she ended up rolling her eyes, sighing heavily. She had put on weight and felt like she was facing the twelve-year-old teenager she used to be; a bit too chubby so that boys noticed her. She had hated it by then and obviously still did now, two decades later. The only positive aspect of her pregnancy, besides the fact she was going to have a child, was her cleavage and so she took advantage of it at the most to compensate over the rest. V-necks, low-cuts and push-up bras had become primordial and so she kept on smiling to look proud of her body in spite of the constant pain in her back and her stomach, so tensed under the baby's weight. She applied her lipstick, swallowed back her tears in front of her extra pounds and finally stepped out of the bathroom with this fake self-confidence that could fool everybody. The red velvet ankle-length dress caught the light of the sun as she walked further into the living room and like a million of rubies, the piece of clothing began to sparkle; embracing the paleness of her skin. Grace looked at her in silence, chewing a chocolate bar but the soft exasperation in her eyes warmed up the millionaire's heart.

"Karen, this is disgusting. You're seven-month pregnant, barely can see your feet anymore, can you?"

She smirked, delighted for being the center of attention and envy.

"I have never lost any limbo game, Gracie."

"Okay so you will even be able to see your entire body until the end… And look at you! You're just disgustingly stunning in this dress. It's so unfair. You carry on the elegance and the beauty of nature, Karen. Take care of it, it's extremely rare."

She was about to reply but the sincere compliment touched her more than expected and she couldn't help but blush, taken aback by her feelings. She leaned her head on a side and frowned; then turned around and headed to the kitchen to pick up some food, just to put an end to the sweet moment she didn't know how to face.

"Thank you, honey; it was nice of you."

She had let the words go out in a whisper, unsure that the interior designer had actually managed to hear them properly as she had turned her back at her and looked down at a dish, falsely interested in the disposition of the tomatoes. Her fingertips brushed the metallic edges of the dish as an awkward silence seemed to invade the room all of a sudden. She cleared her voice, uncomfortable.

"Have you ever been in love, Grace?"

Her hazel eyes remained on the counter top of the kitchen. Why did she have so many difficulties to speak about her feelings? It made her angry and then she felt stupid, ridiculously shy before such a natural aspect of her personality.

"I don't know. I'm not sure, why?"

Karen shrugged. She wouldn't even have been able to say why she had asked that in the first place. If she had been looking for a way to fill the silence with words, casual conversations would have worked out a lot better.

"I've been in love so many times that I have stopped counted it for a very long while. And I always had the same wishes by then; those so typical dreams of a better life, a sweet one with children and a warm home. I was all for traditions and the powerful family spirit that sounds so perfect, you know… I had come to these fantasies because it was exactly what I have lacked when I was little and so I didn't want to repeat it again all along my existence. I wanted it to change and become right, pleasant and true. I married Stan and accepted his children for all the things they used to represent to me. I lost myself in a labyrinth of crazy stories when I fell for one of my professors in college and… It has only been a series of hopes and dreams from then on. Details that made me help to go on and get up every morning…"

Grace had stopped chewing her candy bar and was now staring at the dark-haired woman with curiosity, unsure of where her friend was going to through her unexpected speech. But she never cut her off and let her go on. It was better like that and she knew it perfectly.

"Within two months I'm going to give birth to my daughter and I do love her father. I have everything right now, all the required elements to finally reach those dreams I have been carrying on for so long… But I don't want them anymore. Traditions look so old and incomprehensible to me, almost dangerous somehow. What is wrong with me? Why do I drop everything out when I'm about to get it?"

Grace hadn't expected such a question and it took her a few seconds to find out what she thought could sound right; at least to her own mind.

"You were looking for traditions just to escape from your past and you may have found out another way to do that. Choosing the extremity of opposite sides doesn't always work out and you probably know that more than you think. That's why you decide not to go for the traditional family scheme. Anyway the only important thing is that you still believe and care about the family spirit; it has nothing to do with any scheme because it's all about feelings. That's as much personal as we're all different... Happy Thanksgiving."


	52. December, 12th

**December, 12th **

She couldn't remember a time when the letters were clear, on a blackboard at school, in the newspaper; the novel resting on her bedside table. The world had become fuzzy exactly when she had realized it existed. She had never contemplated the purity of a blue sky or the majestic flight of the seagulls in the pale morning light. The words had begun to dance in front of her eyes and the screen of a television always ended up causing her a huge headache. She hadn't said anything, never complained for being afraid she might have done something wrong and so she was just being punished. She hadn't been able to hide it for a very long time though. Miss Pebbles, her teacher in second grade, had noticed very quickly the way Karen used to narrow her eyes as soon as something was written a bit too far; how she seemed tired and in pain after a hard concentration on a text. She used to rub her forehead and make a subconscious face, moving uncomfortably on her chair in the classroom. The diagnostic was evident: she needed glasses. But as logical as it sounded, she never accepted it. It ruined her delicate features, broke down her natural beauty and simply buried her charms. She felt weak and so common while wearing her glasses.

That's why she never wore them; that's why even her closest friends were surprised as they saw her arrive with glasses on. Her peculiar behavior pretended not to understand people's astonished faces and so she just went on as if nothing had happened, as if life had always been the same and the slight detail on her face a day-to-day item. The only difference was that deep inside herself, her pride was fighting against the sentiment of timidity that showing up with a pair of glasses used to stir up through a bright red on her cheeks. She blushed a lot but hid it to perfection. She was all about control and tricks to prevent everyone from seeing she could be weak too, sometimes. She hated this possibility, as human as it was. She stepped out of the bedroom and looked aside, avoiding Grace and Jack's intrigued gazes over her new pair of glasses. She had been reading all the morning, waiting desperately for her scientist's phone call to tell her about her last blood results; in vain. The flat had been silent, the pages of Lolita speeding past in her mind as the hours had passed by. She sat on the couch and cuddled against Will. This sudden act of tenderness emphasized her friends' surprise. She never gave into demonstration of care and love in public except in extreme situations when her feelings always won over the rest. The attorney passed an arm around her shoulders, not asking the reason why she wanted attention and kissed her temple softly.

"What's my favorite chocolate?"

Grace and Jack stared in disbelief at Karen, wondering why she was asking such a mysterious thing; a bit pointless somehow. But Will only smiled and tightened his embrace.

"You're a white chocolate lady."

"What happened to my left thumb?"

"You got it trapped in the Lowell Suite door and cried out your…"

"I didn't cry out, big fairy!"

"Yes you did!"

Feeling in the way, the interior designer pouted.

"I want to play! What kind of game is it?"

The millionaire shrugged.

"It's just a series of questions to see how we know each other. You're going to lose, Gracie. I'm good at it, like Will."

"Is that a challenge?"

The red-haired woman smiled mischievously, her eyes sparkling with delight before the excitement of a new game. Karen sighed; she loved when things were turning that way. It was when she felt so close to her friends, so much more than the relatives she had lived with throughout the country.

"Okay let's start then… What's my favorite book?"

A glance at Jack and Grace understood that she might not know the millionaire that well. Will seemed to be peaceful, knowing undoubtedly the answer, for some mysterious reason.

"I'd say Vanity Fair, fall issue '78."

The answer made Karen burst out laughing but she shook her head; closing her eyes before the subtly of her friend's idea.

"Even though it was a particularly good issue, no it's not."

She turned around and looked at Will, a smile playing on her lips. She loved when he gave the right answer. He always did and it always warmed up her heart; made her feel vaguely important.

"It's _Lolita_ and you read it like a thousand times a year. You must know it by heart now…"

The questions went on and Grace and Jack got taken away in the whirl of sweetness stirred up by the light game but behind the laughs and smiles, the interior designer's mind adopted the shades of bitter realizations. It might have sounded ridiculous for having known about her friends' intimate relationship for a quite a while now but while looking at them answering so easily about each other's particularities, she noticed for the first time how they had forgotten about secrets. They knew each other by heart as if it was a mere logic; an evidence of life. She looked at them in silence, observed Karen's stomach, the way Will had his hands around her. And then it hit her, right away; like a wave of icy wind that suddenly embraces your cheeks and you can't help but shiver. It was December, 12th; the streets were white of snow and the crackling of the flames in the fireplace brought a sweet charm to a smooth and quiet afternoon. Most of people were thinking about Christmas and the presents they still had to buy but for Grace it was simply the day she had seen her friends for the first time like a real couple. It wasn't a shock, just an observation that made some changes occur.

And life goes on.


	53. A beating heart

**A beating heart**

She pushed the door without breaking apart. The light kisses were slowly getting the shades of more sensual ones and she could feel against her body the heat of his. She liked this sensation; the boldness of their lips and the instinctive paths traced by their hands over a shoulder, along a spine, embracing a neck. A million of senses were stirred up and taken off a dry lethargy all of a sudden as her desires found a way into her silent moans and her pale smiles in his mouth. She got rid of her shoes and proceeded to look for the bed with her foot before sitting down on it then lay, still lost in a deep kiss. Her knees caressed his thighs. Her hand went down to his lower back. In a sigh of pleasure their lips finally broke apart only to find back the warmness of their skin and bolder gestures.

She never opened her eyes, vaguely winced to dare a gaze at him. It seemed that the temporary blindness multiplied her senses and gave a special intensity, a very rare one, to their intimacy. She didn't like speaking by then. The sound of her mouth against his skin had more resonance in the act and formed a peculiar harmony with the rustling of the sheets and their loud breaths. They rolled on a side; she took off his shirt. Sometimes she wished that their first time had looked like that, just a series of caresses in the warmness of a bed and not against the abruptness of some wall in the fugacity of a troubling moment. She wondered what would have happened then; what they would have said in the first couple of minutes that followed the end. In their case they had just gone to retrieve some clothes on the ground and coped with the need of sweetness on their own, far from each other. She had felt cold in the cab, excited but lonely. She had missed his arms and the lovers' soft comeback to reality after making love. If she had to do it all over again, she would choose a bed and a subtle moment in the evening when nobody would be waited and they would have all their time to fully appreciate, perhaps a bit embarrassed, after all they were friends, the meaning of the scene.

She passed on top of him and went down his chest slowly, her lips feeding themselves with the heat of his body. She forgot about the weight of her stomach, the tensed skin and the slight pain in her back. She wasn't a mother anymore in the darkness of a bedroom when their breaths became louder and they reached the paroxysm of their love. She was a woman; with her needs, her wishes, her pleasures. She didn't draw a line under her imminent parental status but simply put it in parenthesis and adopted the mask of another side of her personality. She was Karen: mother, woman, lover and confident. The four roles didn't necessarily have to work out at the same time; there was a moment for each one. Her mouth brushed his pants and she unzipped them. Her fingertips joined her lips against the fine skin of his lower stomach and she couldn't help but smile as she felt him arch his back under her teasing caresses.

It hit her as suddenly as a storm can fall down over a city in the summer, without any warning. A cold and bitter realization rushed to her mind and stopped her immediately. She froze, a hand on his inner thigh. They hadn't had time or hadn't thought about turning on the light but the life of New York, even in the middle of the night, never plunged the slightest room into a complete darkness and so she could picture out his figure; his face. She sat up with a mock of horror in her eyes then shook her head in disbelief. Her unexpected reaction made him frown and stare at her in incomprehension. For a couple of seconds none of them spoke. A whole series of wonders was twirling around in their head, getting everything blurry and meaningless; two different points of view that misunderstanding nonetheless joined in an odd way. He was wondering why she had put such an abrupt end to the moment; she had just realized that she was turning on a very old friend of hers.

After so many years, she wouldn't have been able to say why her intimacy with Will had caused a sudden reaction of shock from her mind. It was probably stupid but she felt like she had just realized the degree of their relationship; there, in the darkness of the room while her lips were kissing his inner thighs. And for some reason, it sounded wrong, shameful. She looked down and stared at her stomach then gasped; panicked.

"Karen, are you okay?"

Shaking, she put a hand over her mouth and stood up quickly.

"No, I'm going to be sick. Oh God…"

She rushed out and headed to the bathroom. The cold water was soft and pleasant on her face, refreshing; cool. She looked up and crossed his gaze on the mirror. Will; she was sleeping with Will. Unable to speak, she simply let her eyes study his half-naked body. She almost felt embarrassed; she shouldn't be witnessing him like that. Of course she could have joked about it but the moment was way too serious to and it made her feel nervous. She jumped as his hand came to rest over her forearm.

"What's happening to you? Do you want me to call a doctor?"

She shook her head and swallowed hard. Her features were torn by the dilemma playing in her heart, such a strange one though. After a couple of silent seconds she finally managed to speak or better said murmur.

"You're my friend… I shouldn't be in love with you. We shouldn't have sex. We… Oh my God, we shouldn't be having a child together. This is unhealthy. What kind of friends do that?"

The attorney opened his mouth to reply but found himself in front of a sudden lack of words. He wasn't expecting a fit of panic before their relationship in the middle of the night while they were in their way to share a sweet moment of intimacy.

"It's okay, Karen…"

"Don't you think it's odd?"

"Yes, I do but look… I don't know whether you said it subconsciously or not but you love me. I do love you too. This is not something you can control, Karen. I considered you as my sister for a very long while and that's why the whole thing sounds weird from time to time but… I don't know; I can't explain it. Something pushed us to get involved into a different kind of relationship and here we are now…"

She was staring at him in disbelief, trying to accept his words. As true as they were, for some reason she had difficulties to deal with them; four years after they actually started sleeping together. She blushed before her incredible stupidity. She had already had sex with people she had considered as her friends, more than once to be honest and she had never wondered why it had turned that way; never thought that it sounded wrong. She passed her tongue over her lips and locked her eyes with the reflection of his in the mirror.

"I always considered you as one of my best friends, Will. I never said it out loud but I hope you got my silent signs… I felt so lucky to be so close to you. Sometimes I even wondered why you had accepted me in your life because I certainly didn't deserve it. You mean so much to me; you, Grace and Jack. I never cared about anyone as I do for the three of you. It might be the reason why our relation looks strange to me. You offered me your friendship but I decided to get more. Who can tell me that I had the right to ask for your love? It doesn't seem right. You gave me more than I could expect from someone. I shouldn't have claimed for more. It's not fair…"

The attorney passed his arms around her waist and kissed her shoulder then buried his face in her neck. Unable to move, Karen looked at their image in silence, weighing his words as he whispered against her shivering skin his answer.

"You didn't force me to fall in love with you. This is probably the weirdest thing that ever happened to me but it's also the most beautiful one. Even my words trouble me but this is simply the truth. I love you."


	54. Just stop thinking

**Just stop thinking**

She closed her eyes and tried to relax at the most but the so-called peaceful silence only began to oppress her and she felt her heart pounding louder in her chest. Anxiety; she had always been a nervous wreck. As a matter of fact, her father's death had set off her insomnias, provoked the constant tapping of her feet against the floor, the furtive comings and goings of her legs which resulted to make her mother mad. But she couldn't help it. Something had got broken the day he had stopped breathing as if the paternal shield he had represented until then had gone away with him and she had found herself alone to face reality. It was scaring. A veil of fragility had invaded her mind and she had started shaking uncontrollably, certain she would never be able to go on without him. It's when the visits to the school psychologist had been multiplied because of her moody behavior. One day she would fight with another pupil and the other she would just sit down in a corner and cry in silence. She was asking for help but for not knowing how to deal with it and the sudden loss of her husband, Lois had crossed the lines and given up everything; damaged the rest of Karen's life. The years had passed by and she had coped with it but the imminence of her pregnancy seemed to have stirred up her old fears.

Sighing heavily, the dark-haired woman got up and went to the living room. The contrast was sharp and hit her right away. The quietness of her bedroom was cold and bare while seeing her friends chatting and laughing on the couch, the fireplace on. Life was twirling around lovingly throughout the warmness of soft smiles. She went to the kitchen and grabbed a mug. The sky had turned into a dark blue among which the whiteness of the snow falling down looked like little diamonds that lit up the night. It was beautiful; matched to perfection with her silent needs. She couldn't bear anymore being alone. Her fears had reached such a state of incomprehension and impossible control that the mere presence next to her was a high relief and she felt secure then. The only problem was that she still could barely assume it and the mere thought that her friends could notice her bright smiles as soon as she happened to be with them was enough to make her angry. Why did she have to be so complicated? It was like living with a permanent gray cloud over her shiny dreams. She settled down against Will and leaned her head on his shoulder quietly; then closed her eyes as he began to caress her hair with care and tenderness. She hated depending on the others, so much more emotionally speaking but it was hard to hide anything from the attorney. He knew her too well for that; even better than herself sometimes.

"Are you tired?"

She shrugged as he murmured against her ear and took advantage of the sudden coldness to plant a light kiss on her temple, tightening his embrace over her body. She might have been tired but didn't feel like sleeping; just enjoying her friends' presence and joy. Jack looked at Will and Karen with an obvious curiosity before him finally jumping on his knees so that he may only be a few inches away from the millionaire's face. She smiled at him.

"What do you want, poodle?"

"I was wondering if you had already found the baby's name…"

Her smile froze into a mock of utter realization. Turning her back at Will, she couldn't see his face though she quickly guessed that he was more or less sharing the same expression as her when she felt his arms got tensed around her waist.

"Damn, that's true! You two haven't told us yet about it."

Her eyes got fixed on Grace who was now as excited as Mrs Peel the day they had brought in the Christmas tree and begun to decorate it. Karen frowned, moving nervously on the couch while Will was mumbling a vague and completely incomprehensible answer. How come they hadn't even spoken about it yet? Trying to ignore the slight idea that one more time, tended to show her that she was definitely not made for any maternal experience, Karen took a deep breath and let her lips get control of the situation that she had already lost control over anyway.

"As a matter of fact we wanted to have your opinions and know what your favorite names were; just to compare, you know…"

Will giggled nervously behind her but nonetheless approved what sounded like the worst lie she had ever made up. It worked though and Jack began to shriek hysterically, finding himself very quickly before the dilemma of his whole life: was "Cher" acceptable if associated to "Bette"?

The interior designer didn't say a word but shook her head in disbelief, frowning dangerously in font of Karen who immediately understood that she couldn't fool two friends in a row; unfortunately. With a very low and meaningful voice, Grace stopped Jack in his exaltation.

"Oh my God… I can't believe you haven't even chosen a name yet."

Will sighed as Karen rolled her eyes and moaned, feeling like yelling out "merry Christmas" even though it was only December, 23rd. She would have done anything to change to subject of this shameful conversation.

"Oh come on, Gracie! We still have plenty of time for that… I mean, why would we choose it before the birth? In some countries they even wait for a whole week after, by superstition."

"Yes but you live in America, Karen. The only superstition you can suffer from is that there was really something to look for in Irak and so you would have to apologize to Bush."

The millionaire smiled, raising her eyebrows.

"Yeah, like the governor of Alaska would ever run for The White House. This is bullshit, honey."

"But isn't there any name that you kind of like, Karebear?"

She looked down and shrugged then bit her lower lip.

"There may be one, yes."


	55. Silent night

**Silent night**

It was a brand new one; a dark brown leather so soft that your hand couldn't help but slide along it whenever your skin made contact with the fabric. She had chosen it without the slightest hesitation. The design was elegant, classic and delicate. Under the intimate lights of the store, it had appeared majestically among the others and she hadn't even needed to have a look at the entire collection. This one would be perfect or it's at least it's what Karen had thought while buying it but as she was staring at it now, abandoned on the hardwood floor next to the door, the charms seemed to be completely inexistent. It was just a pointless Louis Vuitton travel bag waiting sagely for being used. The millionaire shivered under the idea then closed her eyes. She didn't feel like grabbing it that soon if only she simply wanted to. The reason of its presence had been enough to break down a platonic association and while her fears were growing in silence, day after day, the bag had turned into the bitter reflect of an imminent unknown situation.

"Karen, stop looking at it like that. It doesn't bite, you know."

She furrowed her eyebrows and kept on staring at the bag from the other end of the living room which she thought was a reasonable distance. Her elbow found a balance on the oak table and she leaned her chin against the palm of her hand, pouting.

"Don't take it bad, honey, but I guess I'm not ready at all."

Will smiled, amused and touched by the dark-haired woman's sudden and unexpected confession. Her persistent stubbornness to avoid any subject related to the labor was clear enough so that he understood that she was scared. He just would have never thought that she would dare to recognize it, for obvious reasons. He put down the spoon on the counter top and went for a comforting hug but she backed him away, shaking her head; adjusting her top over her prominent stomach.

"Oh Karen…"

"I don't need your pity, Will. Go back to the kitchen and get the meal ready. This is Christmas; let's just think about something else okay. I don't need to focalize on this maternity bag the whole day. Where is Jack? I need entertainment. Where is Grace? I need to criticize someone."

She stood up and turned around but gasped suddenly as the attorney grabbed her arm, pushing her closer to him. She didn't smile but waited quietly for the evident next move; anticipating the softness of his lips and the warmness of his hands when he used to pass them around her waist while deepening the kiss. She closed her eyes, leaned over and felt his breath brushing her skin but Marilyn rushed in and so they broke apart even before the slightest kiss.

The blonde looked at them with high interest, raising her eyebrows in defiance before Karen's blushing.

"Are you sure you two aren't thinking about wedding?"

The millionaire bit the inside of her mouth to restrain a scream then smiled politely at Will's mother. It wasn't even noon yet. Her own mother still had to come, as well as George, for lunch. She looked blankly at Marilyn putting down a pile of parental books on the coffee table and for the very first time in her life, she almost felt like feigning the labor and rushing to the hospital just to get rid of those long hours that had to come.

"Are you okay, Karebear?"

She shook her head at Jack, realizing little by little that their life was coming back to normal under the peaceful night. Parents were finally gone, taking away with them the pressure of failures and the weight of reproaches that the oldest generation always gave to the youngest. She took a deep breath and tasted the sweet scent of being surrounded by her closest friends; people who counted even more than her so-called relatives.

"I need a drink."

She moaned and pouted in front of the actor's negative reply. She needed the strength of alcohol; the sensation of her throat burning as the liquid slid down and warmed up her whole body. She had drunk so much water that the tasteless beverage seemed to have altered her system and the mere sight of a mug stirred up now a wave of nausea that she could barely control.

"Come on, it's Christmas… Just one drink…"

"Karen Walker you are pregnant and there is no way I take part in your plans to ruin your daughter's life. If you want to do it then do but go for it by yourself. Now if you want a hot chocolate, I'll get it for you immediately."

Resigned, she nodded and accepted the hot beverage with a reluctant face.

She stepped out of the bathroom and stopped, leaning against the wall. The flat had found back the peaceful silence of the night and the pale shadows of the moon reflected on the walls; a truck passing in the street from time to time. She would never say it though it had been her favorite Christmas; with no pretention, so quiet. She had been glad to see her mother, to spend a long time with Grace and Jack; Will's hand caressing her neck as the four friends were chatting in the latest hours in front of the fireplace. The baby had moved and she had felt alive, satisfied with this odd sentiment that her existence might have been sounding right for once.

"What are you doing there in the dark?"

She shook her head, smiling softly at Will's question before replying in a murmur of thoughts.

"Nothing; I was just thinking…"

A last gaze at the maternity bag and she headed to the bedroom; then closed the door behind, the silent night rocking her soul with the bright hopes of maternal eyes.


	56. The last day

**The last day**

She opened her eyes and winced before the unexpected bright light of the morning. She hadn't closed the blinds and now that the moon had vanished after long hours of sleep, the sun was passing through the window in a torrent of heat and clear vision, reassuring and pleasant. She got up and headed straight to the kitchen to brew some tea. Her rituals seemed to have settled down smoothly over her life lately; no matter Will was there or not. They had come out by themselves, pushed by a desire of a peculiar routine that she knew as hers and she loved the simple idea of it. She didn't depend on anyone but her own decisions and in spite of the silent fears of the beginning, she was realizing little by little that she wasn't failing. It was a warm image, a sort of balance that had calmed down her perpetual whims and irresponsible acts. The baby kicked; she smiled. Anyway she couldn't but accept some changes now in her behavior for being in charge of her own child.

She tried to enjoy the quietness of the flat; scanning the four rooms, bathroom included that constituted it. She didn't want to forget anything, the slightest detail. That evening after celebrating New Year's Eve, Will would stay there with her until she finally went into labor. They had come to this conclusion together. It was better, safer too. And even though she hadn't said anything, she had felt relieved. Being alone while having the first contractions was all she wanted to avoid. She would panic and probably stay in a corner, huddled up against herself, unable to move; no matter the phone was only a few inches away from her and giving a call would make the situation evolve. He would be here with her and then they would go to the hospital; together. The next time she would pass the door, she wouldn't be alone anymore and her existence would have taken a whole different turn. She would have a daughter, someone to look after for the rest of her life. Now she just hoped she would do it right, as much as she was able to.

She was due in a week; seven ridiculous days that she dreaded more than anything. It had seemed so far until then, almost fictive. She had gone to Lamaze classes and read an impressive amount of parental books but it hadn't reassured her at all and she waited for the first contractions with the same anxiety as we go to the dentist's. She turned on the television and watched the news in silence, eating quietly her cereals, milk free. She had been diagnosed allergic to it after some blood tests and further investigation when she had reported that it made her sick. A singular atmosphere was reigning over the world. It was a time for conclusions, looking backwards and accepting some lessons. The end of a year was always so particular as if something was really about to fly away and disappear in the passing of time while finally, after midnight, we would just look around and realize that the world had kept on turning all along and would always do. She saw the changes in a more personal way for once. What if she didn't like what was coming? She would have no choice but live with it.

She met them on Broadway among the crowd of tourists, just under the flashy and multicolored neon of Times Square. It had been snowing the whole morning and now the sidewalks were all white, stifling peacefully the cacophony of people's steps into a vague murmur. Letting some icy air escape from her mouth, she thanked in silence Grace for the shopping day in October and the thick black coat they had found by then. With the present size of her stomach, she wouldn't have been able to close properly her usual one and she would be dying of freezing now if she didn't wear this one adapted to pregnant women. She smiled at them, leaned over and kissed Will; a hand on his chest, the leather of her glove getting lost in the dark fabric of his own coat. They stopped by a coffee store and had lunch there before heading to Macy's, swallowed by the sudden heat of the place and Christmas carols playing in the background.

Jack and his new interest in spiritual way of life said it was because of the full moon. Grace and her illogical logic pointed at the crowd. Will and his implacable Cartesian mind simply affirmed that it was time. Karen didn't say a word, just felt it; how it was running along her hoses, a bit sticky and warm. For a few seconds she looked down and tried to hide her red cheeks, embarrassed before the idea she hadn't reached the toilets in time. Her friends had kept on walking through the tables of clothes, unaware of the fact that she had stopped and leaned awkwardly against a shelf, pretending to be highly interested in an awful yellow cashmere cardigan. It's Grace who suddenly turned around and stared at her in disbelief.

"Karen, what are you doing?"

The millionaire shrugged, giggling nervously. The interior designer came back to her but while approaching her, she slid on the wet floor. Karen grabbed immediately her arm to keep her up on her feet. Grace looked down and frowned.

"What is that? Oh my God…"

"Damn, shut up, Adler! This is embarrassing enough…"

"Your waters have just broken!"

The dark-haired woman gasped, her heart beating quicker all of a sudden.

"They did what?"

The next thing she knew, Karen was laid in a metallic and uncomfortable bed in the hospital, watching on television the crowd of New Yorkers walking out peacefully in the streets; the constant beeps of the monitoring playing a strange melody in the background. She had had no contraction yet which had let time to Will to call his parents, Lois, Miranda and Brian; just to tell them, there was no need for them to come over and wait for what looked like the longest hours ever lived. Six hours later while most of the planet was about to start the last dinner of the year, the millionaire was finally dealing with the pain previous to the epidural, drops of sweat running on her neck, moans tearing her usually so delicate features.

"Damn it hurts like hell, Jack. Give me something, please. Whatever it is, I don't mind; but give me something, honey."

"I can't!"

"Fuck you, you big fairy!"

Against all expectations, Karen stayed quiet and concentrated all along. She was scared, moved, lost and vaguely hopeful. In the last minutes she wondered why she was there; how come she had reached this place, that night. Will was next to her and it sounded so weird. Did she regret everything? Almost; until she heard the cries and something happened to her heart. She stared at the midwife's white blouse and jumped as they put down against her bare skin the baby. The profusion of heat seemed to be embracing her sweat and very slowly her fingertips made contact with her daughter's skin. She looked at her in disbelief and bit the inside of her mouth to prevent from crying as a strong wave of warmness invaded her soul. The baby was short, so small; with dark hair and her skin was so soft. She was alive and there, against her chest. Karen was speechless. She turned and looked at Will, frowning; asking for an explanation, the word she couldn't manage to say out loud for whatever reason.

"Do you have a name for your daughter?"

It didn't last more than five seconds but in the millionaire's heart time got suspended and engraved this moment as the most important one of her whole life. She nodded.

"Yes, we do. Her name is Paolina."

She caressed the little head and thought about Dan; then smiled. The ball went down on Times Square and the fireworks lit up the sky of New York. It was time for a new life.


	57. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Come on, honey."

She grabbed the toddler, carefully taking her off the bathtub and wrapped her immediately in a towel, punctuating the sudden change of temperature with light kisses and comforting smiles. She passed her hands over the short legs, played with the toes and finally stepped out of the bathroom hugging her tightly. The smell was still there; this peculiar fragrance typical from babies that used to make people's heart melt right away, hers included. She turned on her right and headed to the bedroom where a bigger crib had replaced for quite a while yet the very first one that one day Will and Grace had got back from the flea market while a few minutes before Mrs Peel had rushed into her life so unexpectedly.

"Do you like it, honey? You haven't pouted yet; tell me it's a positive sign and you're not going to throw a fit as soon as I put it on you."

The little girl's hand vaguely tried to pick up the velvet purple dress but her fingers only slid on the soft fabric. She had bought it a few days before while walking out with Olivia. They had loved the simplicity of the design highlighted by the touch of originality that a row of three mother-of-pearl buttons settled just under the collar. With bright wooden green hoses and a matching cardigan, her big brown eyes and the paleness of her skin would find a perfect way to show the grace of their features. She sat the baby down on the changing table and proceeded to dress her, humming all along the song that was playing in the background. She had stopped counting how many times she had listened to it, the French words twirling in her head over and over. For once she had to admit that Marilyn had had a good idea. Not that she really cared that her daughter recognized the foreign idiom so young but simply because the lyrics were smart and nice; talking about how children were made of milk added to some coffee, grenadine or tea but whatever their mix, they were all cuties.

When she put the final touch to the fine dark hair passing her fingers through it, Karen stopped and stared at her daughter. Something warm, a sweet feeling, passed through her veins before reaching her heart and she bit her lower lip, moved.

"Oh no, don't tell me I'm going to cry…"

The millionaire shook her head and cleared her voice, pushing away what she considered as a ridiculous trick played by her mind. She leaned over to plant a kiss on the little girl's head.

"Aren't you lovely, honey? Daddy is going to be very fond of you, today; not that it's going to be a big change but still… Are you happy to see him today? Within a minute we will be heading to his house and you will see Grace and Jack out there. For some miracle your grandparents won't be here so this is going to be a lot of fun!"

She knocked on the door and waited impatiently, squatted down. Grace opened and couldn't help but shriek hysterically when she saw the toddler standing on her feet; Karen holding her hands from behind. Alerted by the interior designer's reaction, Will who was in the kitchen, made a step forward before freezing when he came face to face with his daughter, ready to walk. Jack rushed behind him, a cam in hand.

"Go away, Grace! I can't see Paolina properly and Lord knows she'd better do it today seeing how hard we've been rehearsing for that lately."

The attorney looked at Karen in disbelief; she shrugged, hiding with difficulty a smile.

"She wasn't doing it with you, was she? Let's just say she's closer to her mum… Come on, honey. Go to daddy."

She let the little hands go and looked at her daughter make unsteady steps towards Will. As soon as she arrived, he grabbed her and hugged her tightly, a wave of pride spreading over his heart. He kissed her nose and locked his eyes with her identical ones.

"Happy birthday, pumpkin."

Most of people would have said that she had had way too many presents but Karen's usual eloquence only thought it was fair for her daughter being the best child on earth. One year had already passed by since the night the dark-haired woman had given birth to her. A whole series of events had happened since then: Stanley's comeback from the dead, the sequels to such unexpected twist, her sudden closeness to Olivia, Brian's death just before Thanksgiving. But behind the gray clouds of life, the bright sun had shone too through the simple pleasures of motherhood and the discovery of the exact meaning of love and existence. No matter she had felt like crying or a smile invading her lips, Will had always been there, next to her. They hadn't moved in together; not yet. Perhaps one day they would, nobody really knew and even less cared. They were happy and it was all what really counted. She let Grace and Jack play with Paolina and came closer to Will, passing her arm around his waist; leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Do you remember the day you turned me down at The River Café?"

Karen nodded, still contemplating her friends and her daughter.

"Do you remember what you said to me? Why you refused?"

"Yes, I do. I wanted traditional schemes, a so-called family."

"Do you have any regret? You could; after all we're not really what people call a typical family."

She turned around and looked at him; then frowned.

"I was wrong, Will. I mistook traditions for love. I will never regret anything… Thank you though; I owe you everything."

She leaned over and captured his lips in a sincere kiss as the constancy of silence that had always embraced her feelings kept on rocking her heart with bright hopes of love and warm dreams.


End file.
